

PN 

Cd I ^ l 

.f A $% 
2 


* 


h] 

a B 

8 

o 













FT MEADE 
GenCol1 



: !;{$ 

t 



















: i ! 







m 

ii 


v 



i 

I 

'I 

i *i| 


Aw Arrangement or 






■fe#» 





(km: J. Mimes I 













msM 




ifiiill 









































COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 












Sheared Cream 
o Wit 


A Classified Compilation of the Best 

WIT and HUMOR 


By 

CARL J. MITTLER 

Louisville, Ky. 


ID O 'si 











THG I (p I 

■ Mss 

cofY 



Copyright 1923 

BY 

CARL J. MITTLER * 



NOV 12 *23 



*Y V- V* •%/' 





r* 

& 


o 



<u 


This little anthology is lovingly 
dedicated to Miss Jennie C. Benedict 
and Miss Salome E. Kerr , with 
respect and admiration. 



By the TV ay 




My Dear Mr. Mittler: 

The old adage “what is one man's 
laughter may he another man's dirge" is not 
inapplicable to the selections of wit and humor 
in your hook. 

Please let me “dib" this one suggestion , 
Gulping rich food brings on indigestion , 
Homeopath these rescued treasures , 

Little at a time conserves the pleasures . 

Good luck to “Sheared Cream o' Wit". 

Augustus E. Willson 



Foreword 


r jpHE rare gift of originality is denied most of us, 
but a measure of compensation rests in the gift 
of appreciation which has been so freely bestowed, 
in some degree at least, upon nearly every one of 
the human race. As one who enjoys this blessing, 
the compiler of this little volume has counted it a 
labor of love, and hence a delight, to gather together 
during a period of forty years choice bits of humor 
and quaint verse, for his own amusement and the 
delectation of an inner circle of friends. 

The growth of this collection, together with the 
care used in selection, seems now to warrant its 
stepping into a wider field. The same recognition of 
the finer things of wit and pathos which led to these 
gleanings will be met in other hearts and the smile 
of kindred spirits will broaden as this little book 
makes its new friends. Under the evening lamp, the 
family circle may have many a hearty laugh together; 
in the office or train, the tired business man may ease 
the strain of concentration; in the hospitals, weary 
convalescents may cheer the hours of waiting; the 
after-dinner speaker may find here some worth-while 
“I am reminded” stories; far and wide are scattered 
the multitudes of those who will welcome the coming 
of one whose mission it is to “scatter sunshine” along 
life’s weary way. 





The gems contained in these pages have been 
gathered from the New York Graphic, Texas Siftings, 
Ram's Horn, Life, Paris Figaro, Punch, London Tit 
Bits, Literary Digest, Ladies Home Journal, Fliegende 
Blatter, and from daily papers, living and dead. 
To all of these, due acknowledgment is made and 
confidence is expressed that one and all will endorse 
the propaganda for the spread of the gospel of 
laughter. 

All of the foregoing is set down to emphasize the 
simple truth that I shall regard my labor as well 
rewarded, if a bit of new joy, a ray of new brightness, 
may enter the life of some one who needs it today. 

Carl J. Miiiler. 


Random Smiles 

Motto for young lovers: Sofa and no father. 


I would like some powder, please, said the young 
miss to the drugstore clerk. 

Yes, miss. Face, gun or bug? 


Diner (Scanning menu)—Have you frog legs? 
Waitress— Oh, no sir! I walk this way on account 
of rheumatism. 


The new long skirts may make the women appear 
taller, but there is no denying that the short skirts 
make the men look longer. 


Village Constable (to villager who has been 
knocked down by passing motorist): You didn’t 
see the number, but could you swear to the man? 
Villager: I did, but I don’t think ’e ’eard me. 


Messenger boy, with a telegram for Mr. Jenkins, 
rings the bell at half-past one in the morning: Does 
Mr. Jenkins live here— 

Feminine voice from upstairs, wearily: Yes; 
bring him in. 


Uncle Sam’s worries (Stevenson Americanized): 

There’s so much blues in the East of U. S. 

And so much booze in the West of U. S. 

That it ill behooves any of U. S. 

To say what it thinks of the rest of U. S. 










6 


RANDOM SMILES 


He—I feel like thirty cents. 

She—How things have gone up since the war. 


Paw, said Tommy Tucker, am I descended from 
the monkey? Not on my side of the house, replied 
Mr. Tucker, with much positiveness. 

A Reformer would change the name of Hollywood 
to Follywood. 

The Hellywood. 


Farmer—See here, young feller, what are you 
doing up that tree? 

Boy—One of your apples fell down and Fm 
trying to put it back. 


A Yorkshireman recently entered an auction 
mart. Looking around and catching the auctioneer’s 
eye during a lull in the bidding, he shouted loudly 
enough to be heard by all: May I bid, sir? 

Certainly, said the man of the hammer, thinking 
him a customer. 

All eyes being turned on the questioner, he, 
making for the door, said: 

Well, I ’ll bid you good-night, then. 

The laughter which followed stopped business 
for some time. 


In the sweet silence of the twilight they honey- 
spooned upon the beach. 

Dearest, she murmured, trembling, now that we 
are married, I—I have a secret to tell you! 

What is it sweetheart? he asked softly. 

Can you ever forgive me for deceiving you? she 
sobbed. My—my left eye is made of glass! 

Never mind, lovebird, he whispered, gently; so 
are the diamonds in your engagement ring! 










RANDOM SMILES 


7 


Mrs. Smith presented her husband with triplets, 
and two weeks later she had twins. 

How come? 

One of the triplets died. 


An inebriated husband, who has returned after 
a night out, bringing with him nothing but a char¬ 
lotte russe, finds his wife very angry. I sent you 
for fish last night and here you have come home 
with nothing but a charlotte russe. 

Husband (startled)—Did she come all the way 
home with me? 


An advertisement appeared in a newspaper lately 
praising a new make of infant’s feeding bottle. Here 
is the advice it gave relative to its use: 

When the infant is done drinking, it must be 
unscrewed and put in cold place under a tap. If 
the baby does not thrive on raw milk, it should be 
boiled. 


Jenkins’ mother-in-law was buried one day last 
week. Jenkins was visibly affected as he followed 
the hearse. 

Bear up, sir, said the undertaker. Don’t cry. 

I can’t help it, sighed poor Jenkins. Poor 
woman! Do you know this is the very first time 
we have been out together without quarreling? 


The stingiest man was scoring the hired man for 
his extravagance in wanting to carry a lantern in 
going to call on his best girl. 

The idea! he scoffed. When I was courtin’ I 
never carried no lantern; I went in the dark. 

The hired man proceeded to fill the lantern. 

Yes, he said sadly, and look what you got. 







8 


RANDOM SMILES 


Collector—When can you pay this bill? 
Business Manager—See the puzzle editor. 


Are you Hungary, Frances? 

Vpc Qi o m 

Well, Russia long and I’ll Fiji. 

She—John, do you think that this hat is be¬ 
coming to me? 

He—I expect so, for the bill will be coming to me. 

Mrs. Wade Parker—Do you take a Sunday paper? 
Mrs. Glen Villers—We do if we get up before our 
next-door neighbors. 


A young lady was caressing a pretty spaniel, and 
murmuring, I do love a nice dog! Ah! sighed a 
dandy, standing near; I would I were a dog. Never 
mind, retorted the young lady, sharply, you’ll grow! 


Mrs. Knicker—Weren’t you frightened when the 
bull bellowed at you on account of your new dress? 

Mrs. Bocker—No, it was exactly the same way 
Henry behaved when he got the bill. 


English specimen (with monocle)—Aw—do you 
serve lobstahs here? 

Boston waiter—We make no unnecessary inquiries 
concerning our customers, sir. 


This is from a retail grocer, found (not the 
grocer) in a basket of Florida beans— 

Dearest Sweet Pea—Do you carrot all for me? 
My heart beets for you. With your radish hair and 
turnip nose, you are the apple of my eye. Give me 
a date, if we cantaloupe. Lettuce marry anyway. 
I know we would make a happy pear. 













RANDOM SMILES 


9 


Yes, dear, I was married last month. I’d like 
you to call on me and see the pretty little flat I have. 
I’ve seen him, my dear. 


What is the difference between a rooster, a soldier, 
and a vamp? 

The rooster says, Cock a doodle do. 

The soldier says, Yankee doodle do. 

And the vamp says, Any dude’ll do. 

The prodigal son wrote the old man as follows— 
I got religion at camp meeting the other day. 
Send me ten dollars. 

But the old man replied— 

Religion is free. You got the wrong kind. 


The girl was very pretty. Leaning her dimpled 
elbows on the table she said—And what is your 
lecture to be about, professor? 

I shall lecture on Keats, he replied. 

Oh, professor, she gushed, what are keats? 


A pretty young lady went into a Fourth Avenue 
music shop the other day. She tripped up to the 
counter, where a new clerk was busy, and in her 
sweetest tones asked— 

Have you “Kissed Me in the Moonlight”? 

No! It must have been the man at the other 
counter. I’ve only been here a week. 


A tall, strong man walked into a shop. 

I want to get a set of lady’s furs, he said. 

What kind? asked the male salesman. 

That brown set in the window will do if it’s not 
too dear, replied the tall, strong man. 

Oh, you mean skunk? said the salesman. 

The salesman is .still in the hospital. 








10 


RANDOM SMILES 


M iss Fleyme—Oh, Mr. Nocoyne, how lovely of 
you to bring me these beautiful roses! How sweet 
they are—and how fresh! I do believe there is a 
little dew on them yet! 

Mr. Nocoyne—W-well, yes—there is; but I’ll pay 
it to-morrow. 


Madam, I must request you to remove your hat, 
remarked the polite theater usher. 

The lady smiled grimly. 

Does my hat annoy the little man behind me? 
Yes, madam. 

Then you’ll find it much easier to remove him. 


How’s this? sneered the jealous goose. How hap¬ 
pens it you aren’t the leading attraction at some 
Thanksgiving dinner? 

The beautiful young turkey blushed and hung her 
head. Then she said softly— 

Nobody axed me. 


A drummer approached a girl in charge of a soda 
fountain and before giving his order asked—How is 
the milkmaid to-night? 

Milk isn’t made; it comes from cows, you fool, 
was the retort. He was glad to close his mouth with 
some of it. 


No man is as well known as he thinks he is, says 
Caruso. I was motoring on Long Island recently. 
My car broke down and I entered a farmhouse to 
get warm. The farmer and I chatted, and when he 
asked my name I told him modestly that it was 
Caruso. At that he threw up his hands. 

Caruso! he exclaimed. Robinson Caruso, the 
great traveler! Little did I expect ever to see a 
man like yer in this here humble kitchen, sir! 









RANDOM SMILES 


11 


What do you mean by an “eight-day clock?” 
One that will run eight days without winding. 
Huh, then how long would it run if you wound it? 


I sometimes wonder, said an Englishman visiting 
New York, to a pretty girl sitting next to him at 
dinner, what becomes of all your peaches here in 
America. 

Oh, was the reply, we eat what we can, and we 
can what we can’t. 


Look here! angrily exclaimed the householder, 
pointing to a cigar-stump that lay on the floor of the 
back porch. That was in the lump of ice you left 
here yesterday morning! Well, belligerently replied 
the iceman, what did you expect to get for fifteen 
cents—a box of perfectos? 


I, said the temperance man, strongly object to 
the custom of christening ships with champagne. 

I don’t, replied the other man. I think there’s a 
temperance lesson in it. 

How can that be? 

Well, immediately after the first bottle of wine 
the ship takes to water and sticks to it ever after. 


A man “butted in” at a waiting line before the 
railroad ticket window at New York, and the men 
who were in a hurry glowered. 

I want a ticket for Boston, said the man and put 
50 cents under the wicket. 

You can’t go to Boston for 50 cents, returned the 
ticket seller. 

Well, then, asked the man, where can I go for 
50 cents? 

And each of the fourteen men in that waiting 
room told him where he could go. 










12 


RANDOM SMILES 


But, observed the fool man who had permitted 
his wife to take him along on her search for a spring 
bonnet, the hat doesn’t seem to fit. Now, I think a 
woman’s hat should conform to her head the same 
as a man’s. 

Oh, tittered the merry milliner, there are no fits 
connected with spring hats. They generally develop 
in the men when the bill comes home. 


A few days ago, says the “Newark Star ,” Aider- 
man Elmer A. Day was glancing over the register at 
one of the local hotels to see if a friend of his was 
registered there. Near him stood a man who was 
holding onto the desk for dear life in a semi-successful 
attempt to maintain his balance. 

I s’pose you think I’m drunk? said the stranger, 
looking belligerently at Day. 

No; not in the least, replied the Alderman, anxious 
to avoid the possibility of a row. 

Well, you’d know I was if I let go this desk, 
answered the man. 


I visited Miss Marie Corelli when I was in Strat¬ 
ford, said a young woman. She lives in a quaint 
house of dull red brick. She is very pretty and very 
rich, and she likes Americans. 

Miss Corelli was full of fun. She talked about 
woman’s over-regard for appearances. She said that 
she herself was too prone to think that, if appearances 
were all right, everything was right. 

Once, in her childhood, Miss Corelli said she was 
yachting on the English coast. 

As the yacht sped along there was a sudden 
swerve, and the helmsman said— 

By Jove, I believe she’s broken her rudder. 
t Oh, well, said the young girl, what does it matter? 
It’s under water, and I’m sure nobody will notice it. 





RANDOM SMILES 


13 


A sentimental novelist once wrote: Edwin then 
kissed Angelina under the silent stars. 

The compositor set it up thus: 

Edwin then kicked Angelina under the cellar 
stairs. 


Old Smith was busy in his back yard with saw 
and hatchet while his wife nursed a bad cold in the 
house, when a neighbor came to the fence. 

Good mornin’, Mr. Smith, he said. How is 
Mrs. Smith this mornin’? 

Just about the same, old Smith replied. She 
didn’t sleep very well last night. 

That’s too bad, the neighbor sympathized, and 
then, as a raucous sound came from the house, 
he added solicitously: 

I s’pose that’s her coughin’, ain’t it? 

No, old Smith answered absent-mindedly, his 
eyes still on his work, it ain’t her coffin, it’s a new 
hen house. 


The world has so long been at war with the hap¬ 
less printer that it will be interesting to know that 
at least one compositor has been capable of following 
instructions. Once upon a time a printer brought 
to Booth for inspection proof of a new poster, which 
after the manner of its kind, announced the actor as 
the eminent tragedian, Edwin Booth. 

Mr. Booth did not fully approve of it. 

I wish you’d leave out that eminent tragedian 
business. I’d much rather have it simple Edwin 
Booth, he said. 

Very good, sir. 

The next week the actor saw the first of his new 
bills in position. His request had been carried out to 
the letter. The poster announced the coming 
engagement of Simple Edwin Booth. 






14 


RANDOM SMILES 


I left my husband’s death notice here this morn¬ 
ing, said the widow. 

Yes, said the bright clerk in the publication 
room of the “Daily Squib.” 

Now, continued the widow, I want you to add to 
the notice, “Gone to Rest,” in an appropriate place. 

Yes, madam, replied the bright clerk, and the 
next morning she read: Gone to rest in an ap¬ 
propriate place. 

Miss Frances Kellar, of the Woman’s Municipal 
League of New York, illustrated admirably at a 
dinner party a point which she wished to make. 

Women, a man has said, are vainer than men. 

Of course, Miss Kellar answered, I admit that 
women are vain and men are not. There are a 
thousand proofs that this is so. Why, the necktie 
of the handsomest man in the room is even now up 
the back of his collar. 

There were six men present, and each of them 
put his hand gently behind his neck. 


We recently heard of a man who attended a 
grand ball with his wife and had a grand time. 
While dancing a quadrille he noticed that his pants 
were ripping, and hurriedly retired to a room with 
his wife, who procured a needle and thread and 
began sewing up the rip. While the man was sitting 
there without any pants on he heard the rustling 
of skirts and it occurred to him that he had taken 
refuge in the ladies’ dressing-room. He appealed to 
his wife, and she shoved him to a door which opened, 
as she thought, into a closet. Opening the door 
quickly, she shoved him through and locked the 
door. Mary! he screamed, I'm in the ballroom! 
The door, instead of opening into the closet, opened 
into the ballroom. 






RANDOM SMILES 


15 


The Morning Star announced the death of 
William B. Jones when he was not dead, writes 
Simeon Strunsky in the New York Evening Post. 
The next day it printed the following notice: 
Yesterday we were the first newspaper to pub¬ 
lish the news of the death of William B. Jones. 
Today we are the first to deny the report. The 
Morning Star is always in the lead. 


A matron of the most determined character 
was encountered by a young woman reporter on a 
country paper, who was sent Out to interview lead¬ 
ing citizens as to their politics. May I see Mr.— ? 
she asked of a stern-looking woman who opened the 
door at one house. No, you can’t, answered the ma¬ 
tron decisively. But I want to know what party 
he belongs to, pleaded the girl. The woman drew 
up her tall figure. Well, take a good look at me, she 
said, I’m the party he belongs to! 


Here is a singular incident showing how easy 
it is to mistranslate an overheard remark. 

Said Mrs. A, one of the overhearers: They 
must have been to the zoo, because I heard her men¬ 
tion a trained deer. 

Said Mrs. B: No, no. They were talking 
about going away and she said to him, find out 
about the train, dear. 

Said Mrs. C: I think you are both wrong. It 
seemed to me they were discussing music, for she 
said, A trained ear, very distinctly. 

A few minutes later the lady herself appeared 
and they told her of their disagreement. 

Well, she laughed, that’s certainly funny. You 
are poor guessers, all of you. The fact is, I’d been 
out to the country overnight and I was asking my 
husband if it rained here last evening. 









16 


RANDOM SMILES 


She was a pretty little widow, whose husband, 
after nine years of married life, had left her with 
four strapping boys and a generous provision of 
the world’s goods. Her financial affairs were in the 
hands of a trust company, the cashier of which, having 
an ambition to be thought something of a wit, often 
joked her when she called at the office. One day, in 
opening her hand bag for a check, she thoughtlessly 
dropped a pin of the variety known as safety. 

The cashier, noticing this, jocosely asked: 

Is that your fraternity pin? 

To which the little widow replied: 

No, it’s my maternity pin. 


Can you tell me, said the cool-looking young 
lady in white, confidentially approaching the young 
man at the soda fountain, the most agreeable way 
to take castor oil? 

Oh, yes, indeed, replied the man, his eyes brighten¬ 
ing. And while you are waiting, he added, won’t 
you have a glass of soda? 

Oh, thank you, said the young lady, as he set 
it down before her. The day being hot, in a few 
moments she had drained the glass. 

Is the prescription ready? she asked, sweet¬ 
ly, wiping her mouth. 

The young man’s eyes gleamed with benevo¬ 
lence. The prescription, he said, tapping the glass, 
was in here. 

Do you mean to say I’ve drunk it ? she screamed. 
But it wasn’t for me; it was for my little brother! 
And she swept from the drug store. 

It’s too bad, sighed the young man, and she 
was one of our best customers! 

But she isn’t any more. Daily the soda fountain 
young man watches her enter the drug store across 
the way, where they look before they leap. 




RANDOM SMILES 


17 


An employer, noted for his energy and lack of 
tolerance for loafing in any form, visited his stock 
room and found a boy leaning idly against a packing 
case, whistling cheerily, and with nothing at all on his 
mind. The chief stopped and stared. Such a thing 
was unheard of in his establishment. 

How much are you getting a week? he demanded, 
with characteristic abruptness. 

Twelve dollars. 

Here’s your twelve. Now get out. You’re 
through. 

As the boy philosophically pocketed the money 
and departed, the boss turned to the chief clerk and 
demanded: 

Since when has that fellow been with us? 

Never that I know of, was the response. He just 
brought over a proof for us from the printer. 


Henry was at college. He had been spending 
somewhat too freely, and he was short. It was near 
the holidays and he hated to write home for money. 
As a last resort he pawned his dress suit to tide him 
over. 

When the time came to leave for home the suit 
was still unredeemed. He knew he would need it 
at home. He hurriedly redeemed it at the last 
moment, packed it in the grip and was off. 

His mother was helping him unpack. She came 
to the coat. 

Henry, she asked, what is this ticket on your 
coat for? 

Why, mother, he replied, I went to a dance the 
other evening and had my coat checked. 

She continued putting away his garments. Finally 
she lifted out the trousers. They, too, were ticketed. 

Henry! she exclaimed, what kind of a dance was 
that? 





18 


RANDOM SMILES 


Philip—My man, I think you are one of the 
most self-controlled men I have ever seen. 

M orris—Howcum ? 

Philip—You seem to have an awful lot of trouble 
with your flivver. You get angry with it, and yet 
you never swear at it. 

Morris—Well, you see it’s this way. I don’t 
think the flivver is worth a damn. 


It was in one of the “ten, twent, thirt” vaudeville 
houses where moving pictures are shown. An Ori¬ 
ental act has been concluded and incense filled the 
house. 

Usher, complained a pompous man in an aisle 
seat, I smell punk. 

That’s all right, whispered the usher, confidently, 
just sit where you are, and I won’t put anyone near 
you. _ 


Some time ago there lived a gentleman of indolent 
habits who spent his time visiting among his friends. 
After wearing out his welcome in his own neighbor¬ 
hood he thought he would visit an old Quaker friend 
some twenty miles distant. 

On his arrival he was cordially received by the 
Quaker, who, thinking the visitor had taken much 
pains to come so far to see him, treated him with a 
great deal of attention and politeness for several days. 

As the visitor showed no signs of leaving, the 
Quaker became uneasy, but bore it with patience 
until the eighth day, when he said to him— 

My friend, I am afraid thee will never come again. 

Oh yes, I shall, said the visitor. I have enjoyed 
my visit very much, and shall certainly come again. 

But, said the Quaker, if thee will never leave, 
how can thee come again? 







RANDOM SMILES 


19 


Prof. Starr, the famous ethnologist, was in his 
humorous and whimsical way accusing women of 
barbarism. 

And she is not only barbarous—she is illogical 
and inconsistent, he exclaimed. 

I was walking in the country one day with a 
young woman. In a grove we came upon a boy 
about to shin up a tree. There was a nest in the 
tree, and from a certain angle it was possible to see 
in it three eggs. 

You wicked little boy, said my companion, are 
you going up there to rob that nest? 

I am, replied the boy, coolly. 

How can you, she exclaimed. Think how the 
mother will grieve over the loss of her eggs. 

Oh, she won’t care, said the boy. She’s up there 
on your hat. 


That Confederate money was never taken se¬ 
riously is well illustrated in the following story told 
by the late General John B. Gordon, and which, as 
far as can be ascertained, has never appeared in print. 

One day during a temporary cessation of hostil¬ 
ities between the opposing forces a tall, strapping 
Yankee rode into the Confederate camp on a sorry 
looking old horse to effect a trade for some tobacco. 

Hullo, Yank! hailed one of a number of Confed¬ 
erate soldiers lolling about on the grass in front of a 
tent, that’s a right smart horse you all got there. 

Think so? returned the Yank. 

Yes; what’ll you take for him? 

Oh, I don’t know. 

Well, I’ll give you $7,000 for him, bantered the 
Confederate. 

You go to blazes! indignantly returned the Yank; 
I’ve just paid $10,000 of your money to have him 
curried. 








20 


RANDOM SMILES 


Two brothers were discussing which smelled the 
strongest, a goat or a tramp. They agreed to leave 
it to the judge. 

All right, said the judge, trot in your animals. 
They brought in the goat and the judge fainted. 
They then brought in the tramp and the goat fainted. 


A party of traveling men in a Chicago hotel 
were one day boasting of the business done by their 
respective firms, when one of the drummers said: 

No house in the country, I am proud to say, has 
more men and women pushing fits line of goods than 
mine. 

What do you sell? he was asked. 

Baby carriages! shouted the drummer, as he fled 
from the room. 


Mayor’s secretary, William P. Ryan, was com¬ 
menting on the way in which many illiterate persons 
seem to get alongin the world, says theChicago Journal. 

The late William J. Carrol used to tell a good story 
along this line, said Mr. Ryan. He had business 
connected with the collection of rents which used to 
take him to a certain place on the eastern shore at 
intervals. On one occasion he went into a store 
there, the proprietor of which could neither read nor 
write. While he was there a man came in who was 
evidently a regular customer. 

I owe you money, don’t I? he said to the store¬ 
keeper. 

The latter went to the door and turned it around 
so that the back was visible. 

That’s so, he replied—you owe me for a cheese. 

A cheese? replied the customer. No, I don’t. 

The storekeeper looked at the door again. 

That’s so, he said, it’s a grindstone; I didn’t see 
the dot in the middle. 





RANDOM SMILES 


21 


Can I get off tomorrow? 

You’ve been off a good deal lately. 

I want to get my eyes examined. 

Well, get a good job done. You’ll be looking for 
work after the first. 


Henry, where on earth have you been? asked 
Mrs. Jollykid when Henry got home at two bells. 

I cannot tell a lie; I’ve been at the office, said 
Henry. 

That’s where we differ. I can tell a lie—when 
I hear it. 


He had been out late. When he reached his 
residence the church clock was chiming 5. Heavy, 
weary, disgusted, he opened the front door with some 
difficulty, and softly toiled up the stairs, entering 
his bedchamber with elaborate caution. 

Thank goodness, she was asleep! 

He dropped into a chair, and without taking off 
his coat or hat, began to remove his shoes. One he 
placed with great care upon the floor, but alas! as 
he took off the other it slipped out of his hand and 
fell with a loud noise. 

Wifey awoke on the instant. 

She looked at him and then at the summer sun¬ 
light that streamed through the blinds. 

Why, George, what are you getting up so early 
for? 

Talk about reprieves! 

Why, my dear, replied George, with the clearest 
enunciation of which he was capable. I found I 
couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get up and go out 
and take a walk. 

And out the poor wretch went, dragging himself 
round wearily for an hour upon the verge of tears 
and torpor. 








22 


RANDOM SMILES 


Do you think it healthy to keep your hogs in the 
house? a social investigator asked a native of 
Arkansas. 

Waal, I donno, he drawled. But I been akeepin’ 
my hawgs there for fourteen years and I ain’t never 
lost one on ’em yet. 


Three artists were trying to see who had painted 
the most realistic picture. 

Why, I painted a picture of Abraham Lincoln 
which was so lifelike that I had to shave it every 
day, said the first artist. 

Oh, that’s nothing, said the second. I once 
painted a picture of a piece of marble which was so 
like one that when I threw it in some water it splashed 
like real marble and sank. 

Why, that’s nothing, said the third, I painted a 
picture of a hen, and, thinking it no good, threw it 
in the waste-basket, and it laid there. 


Not a few people lose their wits in the midst of a 
fire. They will toss a costly vase out of the window, 
but carry the tongs carefully downstairs and out to a 
place of safety. They remind us of one of the anec¬ 
dotes of Mark Twain when he was a Mississippi 
River pilot, as told in St. Nicholas. 

Boys, said the great humorist to a group of his 
friends—I had great presence of mind once. It was 
at a fire. An old man leaned out of a four-story 
building calling for help. Everybody in the crowd 
below looked up, but nobody did anything. The 
ladders weren’t long enough. Nobody had any 
presence of mind—nobody but me. I came to the 
rescue. I yelled for a rope. When it came I threw 
the old man the end of it. He caught it, and I told 
him to tie it around his waist. He did so, and I 
pulled him down! 





RANDOM SMILES 


23 


Arkansaw Native—How much for takin’ the 
pictures of my children? 

Photographer—Three dollars a dozen. 

Native—Wa’al, I reckon I’ll have to wait a spell; 
I hain’t got but ’leven children at present! 


Hello, Olaf where you ban so long? 

I ban got married. 

That’s good. 

Not so good, my wife’s got two children. 
That’s bad. 

Not so bad, she got $10,000. 

That’s good. 

Not so good, she wouldn’t give me the money. 
That’s bad. 

Not so bad, she built a house. 

That’s good. 

Not so good, the house burn down. 

That’s bad. 

Not so bad, my wife burn up in house. 


Mark Twain, in his lecturing days, reached a 
small Eastern town one afternoon and went before 
dinner to a barber’s to be shaved. 

You are a stranger in the town, sir? the barber 
asked. 

Yes, I am a stranger here, was the reply. 

We’re having a good lecture here to-night, sir, 
said the barber. A Mark Twain lecture. Are you 
going to it? 

Yes. I think I will, said Mr. Clemens. 

Have you got your ticket yet? the barber asked. 

No, not yet, said the other. 

Then, sir, you’ll have to stand. 

Dear me! Mr. Clemens exclaimed. It seems as 
if I always do have to stand when I hear that man 
Twain lecture. 







24 


RANDOM SMILES 


Pompous Mistress—Who is that man at the door, 
Hannah? 

New Girl—He says he’s the rent collector, ma’am. 
Pompous Mistress—But, Hannah, we don’t pay 
rent. 

New Girl—That’s what he says, ma’am. 


Mrs. M.’s patience was much tried by a servant 
who had a habit of standing around with her mouth 
open. One day as the maid waited upon table, her 
mouth was open as usual, and her mistress giving 
her a severe look, said: 

Mary, your mouth is open. 

Yessum, replied Mary, I opened it. 


An English sailor was watching a Chinaman who 
was placing a dish of rice by a grave. 

When do you expect your friend to come out and 
eat that? the sailor asked. 

Same time as your frien’ come out to smelle 
flowers you fellow put, retorted Li. 


She was a four-flusher, particularly as to her abili¬ 
ties in various sports. 

Do you golf? he asked. 

Oh, I love golf, she answered. I play at least 
thirty-six holes twice a week. 

And how about tennis? 

I won the woman’s state championship in our 
State. 

And do you swim? 

The best I ever did was a half mile straight away, 
she replied. 

Somewhat fatigued, he changed to literature. 

And how do you like Kipling? he asked. 

I kippled an hour only yesterday, was her un¬ 
blushing reply. 






RANDOM SMILES 


25 


Smith—Well, but if you can’t bear her, whatever 
made you propose? 

Jones—Well, we had danced three times, and I 
couldn’t think of anything else to say. 


Francis Wilson, tells an anecdote of Mark Twain’s 
aversion to barbers. It appears that a barber having 
kept Mr. Clemens in the chair for more than the usual 
period at length finished shaving him and said, Shall 
I go over it again? 

No, drawled Mark, I heard every damned word of it. 


You might as well admit your guilt, said the 
detective. The man whose house you broke into 
positively identifies you as the burglar. 

That’s funny, said the burglar. 

What’s funny? asked the detective. 

How could he identify me when he had his head 
under the bedclothes all the time I was in his room? 


Mark Twain once addressed an audience in the 
interest of his fellow townsman, General Joseph 
Hawley, who was a candidate for re-election to the 
United States Senate, and said, in the course of a 
droll address—General Hawley deserves your sup¬ 
port, although he has about as much influence in 
purifying the Senate as a bunch of flowers would have 
in sweetening a glue factory. But he’s all right; he 
never would turn any poor beggar away from his 
door empty handed. He always gives them some¬ 
thing—almost without exception a letter of intro¬ 
duction to me, urging me to help them. 






26 


RANDOM SMILES 


Wallingford is entertaining a number of men at 
the hotel who have invested several thousands of 
dollars in his wildcat scheme. A newspaper man 
comes in and asks him: 

Is this a surprise party, Mr. Wallingford? 

No, but it will be later on. 


On a suburban trolley car the other day a man got 
on who was badly under the influence of liquor. He 
got a seat and made himself quite offensive to an old 
lady who sat near him. When the conductor came 
around for his fare this old lady jumped up and said: 

Conductor, do you allow drunken people on this 
car? 

No, madam, replied the conductor, but sit down 
and nobody will notice you. 


A good story is told of the troubles of an engaged 
couple. Not long ago there was a quarrel between 
the two which resulted in their not speaking to each 
other; but it became necessary, by reason of certain 
business questions, for the young man to call on her 
father at the house. 

To the embarrassment of the lover the door was 
answered by the fair girl herself. Although the 
young man afterward confessed, his heart beat 
rapidly at the sight of his beloved, he managed to 
effect an air of indifference and coldness, and to ask: 

Does Mr. Cash live here? 

He does, was the frigid reply. 

Is he at home? 

He is not. 

Then turning to go, the young man added: 

Thank you, I shall call again. But the girl was 
equal to the occasion. 

Pardon me, said she, in the same cool tone, but 
whom shall I say called? 





RANDOM SMILES 


27 


You have a model husband, said the lady who 
was congratulating the bride. 

The next day the bride bethought her to look up 
the word “model” in the dictionary, and this is what 
she found: MODEL—A small imitation of the real 
thing. 


A man whose business troubled him greatly was 
advised to advertise for an Official Worrier. He did 
so, and among the applicants was a strong, serious, 
impressive man. 

Are you prepared, asked the business man, to 
take over the burdens of the business? 

I am, was the reply. 

And what is your charge? 

$10,000 a year. 

Good; the job is yours. I am off for a week’s 
golfing. On his return he was confronted with this 
statement: 

I have been through your books. I find that 
your assets are far below your liabilities; you have 
very little stock on hand; no orders; you owe a 
tremendous amount of money and you are heavily 
overdrawn at the bank. What I want to know is, 
where am I going to get my salary from? 

You ask me? said the business man. I should 
w r orry about your salary. That is your job. What 
do you think you are hired for? 


A curious inquirer wanted to know “What are 
the sister States?” and the brilliant country editor 
answered— 

We are not quite sure, but w~e should judge that 
they are Miss Ouri, Ida Ho, Mary Land, Callie 
Lornia, Allie Bama, Louisa Anna, Della Ware, Minnie 
Sota and Mrs. Sippi. 







28 


RANDOM SMILES 


A German cobbler and his wife had two dogs—a 
St. Bernard, six months old, and a fox terrier, three 
years old. A friend, calling one day, said to the 
cobbler. Those are two fine dogs you have. 

Yes, replied the cobbler, und de funny part of it 
iss dat de biggest dog is the littlest one. 

His wife then spoke up and explained: You 
must mine husband egscuse; he spheaks not very 
goot English. He means de oldest dog is the 
youngest one. 


There is a joke being told here at the expense of 
a modest young bookkeeper which is so good it ought 
to be true. 

The young man in question, it appears, was re¬ 
cently invited to a party at a residence where the 
home had recently been blessed with an addition to 
the family. 

Accompanied by his best girl he met his kind 
hostess at the door and after customary salutations 
asked after the welfare of the baby. 

The lady was suffering from a severe cold, which 
made her slightly deaf, and she mistakenly supposed 
that the young man was inquiring about her cold. 

She replied that she usually had one every winter 
but this was the worse she had ever had; it kept 
her awake at night a good deal at first and confined 
her to her bed. 

Then noticing that the young bookkeeper was 
becoming pale and nervous, she said that she could 
see by his looks that he was going to have one just 
like hers and asked him if he wished to lie down. 

The books were posted just the same next day 
but the young bookkeeper has given up inquiring 
about babies. 




RANDOM SMILES 


29 


George, you may bring me two fried eggs, some 
ham, a pot of coffee and some rolls, said the man to 
the waiter. 

Yes, sir. 

His companion said, you may bring me the same. 
No; just eliminate the eggs. 

Yes, sir. 

In a moment the waiter returned. 

Excuse me, sir, but what did you say about them 
eggs? 

I merely told you to eliminate them. 

Yes, sir. And he hurried away to the kitchen. 

In two minutes he came back once more, leaned 
confidently and penitently over the table and said— 

We had a bad accident this morning, sir, an’ the 
limitator got busted off, right at the handle. Will 
you take them fried, same as this gentleman? 


J. M. Carter, the well known architect of New 
York, once went into the country to look at an 
opera-house that was to be enlarged and altered. 
The owner of the place stood on the stage, and 
Carter walked about the auditorium. We talked 
in loud tones, but though I was only half way back 
I could hardly hear the man. 

The acoustics are bad here. Let’s go outside, I 
shouted finally. 

What? said the owner. 

The acoustics, I repeated, are bad. 

The acoustics? 

Yes. 

Well, what about them? 

I say the acoustics are bad. 

Indeed? I don’t smell anything, said the owner, 
sniffing about. 





30 


RANDOM SMILES 


The husband arrived home much later than usual 
from the office. He took off his boots and stole into 
the bedroom. His wife began to stir. Quickly the 
panic-stricken man went to the cradle of his first¬ 
born and began to rock it vigorously. 

What are you doing there, Robert? queried his wife. 

I’ve been sitting here for nearly two hours trying 
to get this baby to sleep, he growled. 

Why, Robert, I’ve got him here in bed with me, 
replied his wife. 


Absalom Foote, an eccentric old man, who had 
grown tired of life in the city, decided to move to 
some smaller town, free from the roar of traffic, the 
bustle and confusion of the thronging multitude, 
where he could end his days tranquilly, as became a 
man of his age. In casting about for a location, 
his eyes chanced to light upon the advertisement in 
a village paper of one 1 homas R. Foote, who wanted 
to dispose of his boot and shoe store at a bargain, 
having made up his mind to remove to the city. 

That’s the very thing, he said, selling shoes is a 
very nice, easy occupation. It will give me just 
enough to do to keep me from stagnating, and it 
won’t wear me out with overwork. I’ll investigate 
it. It’s queer, though, that his name is Foote, my 
name is Foote, he wants to come to the city, and I 
want to go to the country. 

A visit to the little town decided him. He liked 
its appearance and location He was pleased, more¬ 
over, with Foote’s shoe store, and bought it good 
will and all, at a bargain. 

Well, said the other Mr. Foote, you won’t have 
to change the sign. 

No, he answered slowly, I’ll just add a little to it. 

The next day he added this, just below the sign— 

This place has changed feet. 




RANDOM SMILES 


31 


Speaking of cold storage eggs, a correspondent 
sends in a story that may be new to some readers; 
at any rate it sounds plausible. A middle-aged 
bachelor was in a restaurant at breakfast, when he 
noticed this inscription on the egg— 

To Whom it May Concern—Should this meet the 
eye of some young man who desires to marry a 
farmer’s daughter, 18 years of age, kindly communi¬ 
cate with-, Sparta, N. J. 

After reading this, he made haste to write to the 
girl, offering marriage, and in a few days received 
this note— 

Too late. I am married now and have four 
children. 


Mr. Ananias came home one night and was re 
ceived very icily by his wife. He immediately 
assumed the defensive. It was not until after dinner 
that he dared ask his wife what the trouble was. 
Trouble, said she, why when I sent your suit to the 
tailor this morning I found this memorandum in your 
pocket, ‘'Gwendolyn, Lenox 1020.” 

W 7 hy, said Ananias, of course you know what 
that means. That is a racing tip. Gwendolyn is a 
horse, Lenox a jockey, and 1020 the racing odds. I 
am going to the races tomorrow and will play Gwen¬ 
dolyn at one to two. 

The wife admitted her suspicions and begged 
forgiveness for doubting the fidelity of her beloved 
for one moment. 

The next night Ananias came home very late 
from the races. Are you asleep, he whispered to his 
wife who was in bed with her face to the wall. No, 
she answered in distinct and hissing tones. You had 
better call up Lenox 1020, your horse wants to speak 
to you. 





32 


RANDOM SMILES 


Two men were waiting for a train and one said— 
I will ask you a question, and if I can not answer my 
own question, I will buy the tickets. Then you ask 
a question, and.if you can not answer your own, you 
buy the tickets. The other agreed to this. Well, 
the first man said, you see those rabbit-holes? How 
do they dig those holes without leaving any dirt 
around them? The other confessed—I don’t know. 
That’s your question, so answer it yourself. The 
first man winked and replied—They begin at the 
bottom and dig up! But, said the second man, how 
do they get at the bottom to begin? That’s your 
question, was the first man’s rejoinder. Answer it 
yourself. The other man bought the tickets. 


Here is an incident that a Chanute man tells as 
having occurred in a certain Kansas town. He was 
in the ticket office and watched the proceedings. 

A man came up to the window and asked for a 
ticket to Kansas City, inquiring the price. 

Two twenty-five, said the agent. 

The man dug down into a well-worn pocketbook 
and fished out a bill. It was a banknote for $2. 
It was also all the money he had. 

How soon does this train go? he inquired. 

In fifteen minutes, replied the agent. 

The man hurried away. Soon he was back with 
three silver dollars, with which he bought a ticket. 

Pardon my curiosity, said the ticket seller, but 
how did you get that money? It isn’t a loan, for I 
see you have disposed of the $2 bill. 

That’s all right, said the man. No, I didn’t 
borrow. I went to a pawnshop and soaked the bill 
for $1.50. Then as I started back here I met an old 
acquaintance, to whom I sold the pawn for $1.50. 
I then had $3, and he has the pawn ticket for which 
the $2 bill stands as security. 




RANDOM SMILES 


33 


An aged Jersey farmer, visiting a circus for the 
first time, stood before the dromedary’s cage, eyes 
popping and mouth agape at the strange bea'st 
within. The circus proper began and the crowds 
left for the main show, but still the old man stood 
before the cage in stunned silence, appraising every 
detail of the misshapen legs, the cloven hoofs, the 
pendulous upper lip, and the curiously moulded back 
of the sleepy-eyed beast. Fifteen minutes passed. 
Then the farmer turned away and spat disgustedly. 

Hell! There ain’t no such animal! 


They were playing poker in a Western town. One 
of the players was a stranger, and was getting a nice 
trimming. Finally the sucker saw one of the players 
give himself three aces from the bottom of the pack. 

The sucker turned to the man beside him and 
said: Did you see that? 

See what? asked the man. 

Why, that fellow dealt himself three aces from 
the bottom of the deck, said the sucker. 

Well, what about it? asked the man. It was 
his deal, wasn’t it? 


At a dinner given by a political club in New 
York recently, a man who is unusually young for one 
who has attained to such prominence in his pro¬ 
fession was for the first time in his life set down for 
a response to one of the toasts. When at last he 
was called on, his beardless face flushed and his 
manner was very embarrassed. Nevertheless he 
stood up and thus delivered himself: Gentlemen, 
before I entered this room, I had an excellent speech 
prepared. Only God and myself knew what I was 
going to say. Now God alone knows. And he 
sat down. 








34 


RANDOM SMILES 


That feller Morgan Buttles is terrible unpopular, 
said one mountaineer. 

We’ll have to git rid o’ him somehow, replied 
the old moonshiner. 

Yes. But we don’t want to do nothin’ in a way 
that ain’t legitimate an’ customary. You know he 
has political ambitions. 

I’ve heard so. But he ain’t got no pull. 

Yes, he has. An’ you an’ your relations want 
to stand back o’ me when I put the case up to our 
Congressman. We’ll git Buttles app’inted a rev¬ 
enue inspector, an’ then let nature take its course. 


A writer says in regard to the Prussia of fifty 
years ago that it had a state lottery, and in every 
town, large or small, was a collector appointed to 
sell tickets. One day a servant-girl came to the 
collector in Hagen and asked if she could buy 
No. 23. 

He did not have it in his possession, but as the girl 
seemed very much in earnest, and refused to be put 
off with any other number, he tried to obtain it 
from some of the other collectors in town, and 
finally succeeded. 

The drawing took place, and Hagen rose to a 
state of feverish excitement when it was known that 
this girl had become a winner of a large sum of 
money. She found herself for a time the chief 
object of interest in the town. 

She was, of course, asked how she came to fix 
upon No. 23. Thereupon she gave this simple and 
lucid explanation: 

I dreamed one night No. 7, and the second night 
I dreamed No. 7, and a third night again. So I 
thought, Three times seven makes twenty-three, 
and I bought that number. 




RANDOM SMILES 


35 


A short time since two young women entered a 
tramcar in Manchester, England, and found only 
standing room. One of them whispered to her 
companion, I am going to get a seat from one of 
these men. You just take notice. 

She selected a sedate-looking man, sailed up 
to him, and boldly opened fire. 

My dear Mr. Green, how delighted I am to meet 
you! You are almost a stranger! Will I accept 
your seat? Well I do feel tired, I heartily admit! 
Thank you, so much! 

The sedate man, a perfect stranger, of course, 
quietly gave her his seat, saying: 

Sit down, Jane, my girl; don’t often see you out 
on washing day. How’s your mistress? 

The young lady got her seat, but lost her vivacity. 


A number of years ago, when the present second 
Assistant Secretary of State, Alvey A. Adee, was 
third assistant, an employe of the State department 
was called to the phone. 

Will you kindly give me the name of the Third 
Assistant Secretary of State? asked the voice at the 
other end of the wire. 

Adee. 

A. D. what? 

A. A. Adee. 

Spell it, please. 

A. 

Yes. 

A. 

Yes. 

A— 

You go to hell! and the receiver was indignantly 
hung up. 






36 


RANDOM SMILES 


The following reply to a dun was actually received 
by one local customer. 

Dear Sir— 

I received your letter about what I owes you. 
Now be pachent. I aint forgot you and as soon as 
foks pays me I’ll pay you. 

If this was judgment day and you no more pre¬ 
pared to met your God than I am your account, 
your shor going to Hell. 


The editor of the “Hardeman Free Press” says: 

We fell asleep in a chair at Grand Junction last 
Wednesday night on our way home from Memphis 
in our usual soaked condition and let our train leave 
us. The hotel clerk told us to go upstairs and take 
the room on the right side of the hall with the lamp 
burning low. He sed he was crowded and we would 
have to double up with a man. We went up and 
pulled off our things and went to bed without waking 
our bedfellow, who was sleeping sound with the sheet 
over his head to keep off the muskeeters. Before 
we fell into the arms of morphine we seen a young 
lady and a young gent come in and set down by the 
winder. At first they talked so low we could not 
hear what they sed. Finally we heard the little 
miss say: Wallie, ain’t you ashamed to try to kiss 
me right here where we air setting up with a dead 
person? We felt cureous. We slowly reached over 
and touched the nose of the man we wus in bed with, 
and seen at a glance that he was dead alright. We 
riz up instantly, and it was a race to a finish twixt 
us three fer the bottom of the steps. It is useless 
to say we was furst past the post by two lengths. 
We didn’t skeer that couple any wuse than the corpse 
skeered us. We walked through the country to 
Bolivar and wired for our clothes by express. 




RANDOM SMILES 


37 


Hello, is this you, Abe? 

Sure, it’s me. 

This is Abe Potash I’m talking to? 

Yes, yes. What do you want? 

Well, Abe, I want to borrow fifty dollars for— 
All right. I’ll tell him as soon as he comes in. 


While a customer in one of our prominent stores 
on Fourth street, I saw an unusually amazing incident. 
A lady of stupendous dimensions, stylishly attired, 
entered the store and seated herself to be waited 
upon. Soon a bald-headed clerk came up to serve 
her. After rejecting this pair and that, she decided 
on some brown oxfords. The clerk knelt down to 
lace them, and she gazed about the room. Suddenly 
she looked down and saw the bald head. Thinking 
that it was her roller-topped knee, she modestly 
drew her skirt over it. 


Colonel Phil Thompson tells of the trials experi¬ 
enced by a friend of his who recently acquired a 
new stenographer. The dear little thing is a trifle 
weak in orthography but Thompson’s friend has 
been loath to call her down, in view of the fact that 
she tries so hard to please. He is too big-hearted 
to discharge the girl, for she needs the money; so 
he corrects the spelling. 

Recently, however, he was forced to call her 
attention to the fact that in a letter of some seventy- 
five words, she had committed eight errors, among 
which was “fourty”. 

My, my! exclaimed the friend. This won’t 
do, you know; I can’t stand for forty spelt this way! 

The willing worker looked over his shoulder at 
the offending word; Gracious! she exclaimed, how 
careless of me! I left out the “gh,” didn’t I? 






38 


RANDOM SMILES 


Ikey—I got into a fight last week, and a man 
kicked me in de synagogue. 

Jakey—Ver is de synagogue? 

Ikey—In de temple. 


This is the true story of a resourceful motorist. 
Of the ethics of it, there is no condoning. A traffic 
law in a New England city forbids the parking of 
cars on the principal business street. A citizen 
who understood this, was sure he could stop his 
car, deliver a message and be back in his seat all 
in a moment. But he was detained. Also he for¬ 
got. When he came out a policeman stood by his 
automobile. Did the man go to his car? He did 
not. He hurried to his office: He telephoned to 
police headquarters: My car (giving a detailed 
description) has been stolen. In a half hour this 
reply: An officer has found your car. It is here 
at headquarters. Come and get it. He did. Pro¬ 
fuse thanks. Was it clever? 


A certain young man wrote the following letter 
to a prominent business firm, ordering a razor. 

Dear Sirs—Please find enclosed 50c for one of 
your razors as advertised and oblige, 

John Jones. 

P. S.—I forgot to enclose the 50c but no doubt a 
firm of your high standing will send the razor anyway. 

The firm addressed received the letter and replied 
as follows— 

Dear Sir—Your most valued order received the 
other day and will say in reply that we are sending 
the razor as per request, and hope that it will prove 
satisfactory. 

P. S.—We forgot to enclose the razor, but no 
doubt a man with your cheek will have no need of it. 





RANDOM SMILES 


39 


Can any lady or gentleman in the audience lend 
me a ten dollar gold piece? asked the professor of 
magic. 

On vot, eagerly shouted the pawnbroker in 
the front row. 


A Philadelphia business man tells this story on 
himself. 

You know in this city there are two telephone 
companies, he said, and in my office I have a tele¬ 
phone of each company. Last week I hired a new 
office boy, and one of his duties was to answer the 
telephone. The other day, when one of the bells 
rang, he answered the call and then came in and 
told me I was wanted on the ’phone by my wife. 

Which one? I inquired quickly, thinking of the 
two telephones, of course. 

Please, sir, stammered the boy, I don’t know how 
many you have. 


William Blue was an engineer in the employ of 
one of the trunk railway lines in this State. One 
of his duties was to haul the through freight over the 
Western division, and his pet engine was No. 2. One 
night he had an accident. One of the flues in the 
boiler of his pet engine flew out and he was stalled, 
blocking the main line. He reported the matter to 
the division superintendent unwittingly as follows— 

Engine two blew out a flue; what’ll I do?— 
Bill Blue. 

Then he sat down to wait instructions. This is 
what came over the wires from the superintendent’s 
office twenty minutes later. 

Bill Blue—You plug that flue in engine two and 
pull her through in time to get out of the way of 
twenty-two. 

This order is stuck up in the cab of engine 2. 






40 


RANDOM SMILES 


Friend—My, vot a rotten cigar you gift me. 

Storekeeper—You should worry. You got vun, 
I got five hundred! 

Mother—Rachel, your beau was here to see 
you last night. 

Kate—Oh, was he? 

Mother—No, not Wuzzy, Izzy. 

I hear you give your little boy a quarter every 
week for behavior, Ignatz. 

Sure, but I fool him. I told him the gas meter 
was a little bank I bought hun. 


At the luncheon to Nahum Sokolow, the Jewish 
journalist, attended by New York editors, Adolph 
Ochs, of the Times, told of a Jew who came to Bishop 
Potter, stating that he desired to embrace Chris¬ 
tianity. The Bishop arranged for him to have a 
talk with one of the curates, but the applicant was 
insistent and said he wanted to join right away. 

Why are you in such a hurry? inquired the 
Bishop. 

Well, my family done me dirt and I want to 
disgrace them. 


A dying man once sent for an Arkansas editor, 
who hastened to the death-bed with more alacrity, 
as he had no heirs. I’m glad you’ve come, said the 
old man in a deathly whisker. Come closer. The 
editor approached. You know I have worked hard, 
and that I have earned every cent I have got. Some 
time ago, you remember, I subscribed for your paper 
for six months. There is just one more number due 
me, and as I am dying and can’t wait until your 
next issue comes out, just give me a nickel and we’ll 
call it square. 








RANDOM SMILES 


41 


The following missive was received by the forest 
ranger of the Pasadena district and read recently at 
the annual dinner of the Sierra Club in Los Angeles. 
Kind and Respected Cir— 

I see in the paper that a man named J- 

S-was atacted and et up by a bare whose 

cubs he was trying to git when the she bare came up 
and stopt him by eatin him up in the mountains 
near your town. What i want to know is did it kill 
him or was he only partly et up am he from this 
place and all about the bare. I don’t know but 
what he is a distant husband of mine. My first 
husband was of that name and I supposed he was 
killed in the war but the name of the man the bare 
et being the same i thought it might be him after 
all and i thought to know if he wasn’t killed either 
in the war or by the bare for i have been married 
twice since and their ought to be divorce papers got 
out by him or me if the bare did not eat him all up. 
If it is him you will know it by him having six toes 
on the left foot. He also sings base and has a spread 
eagle tattoed on his front chest and a ankor on his 

right arm which you will know him if the bare did 

not eat up these parts of him. If alive don’t tell 

him I am married to J- W-for he 

never liked J-. Mebbe you had better let 

on as if i am ded but find out all you can about him 
without him knowing anything what it is for. That 
is if the bare did not eat him all up. If it did i don’t 
see you can do anything and you needn’t take any 
trouble. My respeks to your family and please 
ancer back. 

P. S.—Was the bare killed. Also was he married 
again and did he leave any property worth me lay¬ 
ing claim to? 








42 


RANDOM SMILES 


An advertisement in a newspaper calling for a 
“first-class bookkeeper at $3 a week” drew forth the 
following answer, the only one attracted by the 
munificent salary. 

I am a young man, thirty-seven years of age, 
having had a business experience of twenty-three 
years, being connected with the United States Em¬ 
bassy at Madagascar, and feel confident if you will 
give me a trial I can prove my worth to you. I am 
not only an expert bookkeeper, proficient stenographer 
and typewriter, excellent operator and erudite col¬ 
lege graduate, but have several other accomplishments 
which might make me desirable. I am an expe¬ 
rienced snow shoveler, a first-class peanut roaster, 
have some knowledge of removing superfluous hair 
and clipping puppy dogs’ ears, have a medal for 
reciting “Curfew Shall Not Ring Tonight.” Am a 
skilled chiropodist and practical farmer, can also 
cook, take care of horses, crease trousers, open 
oysters and repair umbrellas. Being possessed of 
great physical beauty, I would not only be useful, but 
would be ornamental as well, lending to the sacred 
precincts of your office that delightful artistic charm 
that a Satsuma vase or stuffed billy-goat would. 
As to salary, I would feel I was robbing the widow 
and swiping the sponge cake from the orphan if I 
was to take advantage of your munificence by ac¬ 
cepting the too fabulous sum of $3 per week, and I 
would be entirely willing to give you my services for 
less, and by accepting $1.37 per week would give 
you an opportunity of not only increasing your 
donation to the church, pay your butcher and keep 
up your life insurance, but also to found a home for 
indigent fly-paper salesmen and endow a free bed 
in the cat home. 



RANDOM SMILES 


43 


Private John Allen takes a deep interest in the 
advertising business. Advertisements that he deems 
exceptionally good he clips out and pastes in a scrap¬ 
book. As he was showing this scrap-book to a guest 
one day, he said: 

But the best ad I know of is not in here. For 
it wasn’t written, but spoken. It earned its origi¬ 
nator some thousands of dollars, yet I can never 
show it. I can only describe it, and description 
fails to do it justice. 

It was the work of a clothier in Nashville. He 
had, with his partner, the first establishment in 
town, and the business of the firm was considered 
very prosperous. The two men had married sisters, 
and their relationship was more than friendly. 
Hence the greatest surprise overtook Nashville 
when the junior partner suddenly took out a sum¬ 
mons and hauled his senior into court. 

The senior partner is ruining the business, gossip 
said. He is getting softening of the brain, or paresis, 
or something of that sort. Now is the height of 
the spring season, when they ought to be making 
money hand over fist, but the senior’s cracked 
methods are spoiling everything. 

So all Nashville took a tremendous interest in 
the case, and on the morning it was called, the 
courtroom was crowded as in a murder trial. 

The junior partner’s complaint was presented 
strongly and directly. He showed that goods were 
being sacrificed at a fraction of their value, and he 
asked that this ruinous trading be stopped, lest 
ruin ensue. 

The defendant’s lawyer, an able fellow, secured 
an adjournment for three weeks. 






44 


RANDOM SMILES 


On the announcement of this adjournment, the 
junior partner gave a loud groan. He leaped to 
his feet, and rushed out like one demented, shouting 
as he went: 

Merciful heavens, then the sacrifice must still 
go on! 

I don’t need to tell you how much business that 
firm did in the next three weeks. 


Man, born of woman, is of a few days and no 
teeth. And, indeed, it would be money in his pocket 
sometimes if he had less of either. As for his days, he 
wasteth one-third of them, and as for his teeth, he 
has convulsions when he cuts them, and as the last 
one comes through, lo, the dentist is twisting the 
first one out, and the last end of that man’s jaw is 
worse than the first, being full of porcelain and a 
roof-plate built to hold blackberry seeds. 

Stone bruises line his pathway to manhood; his 
father boxes his ears at home, the big boys cuff him 
in the play ground, and the teacher whips him in the 
school-room. He buyeth Northwestern at 110, when 
he hath sold short at 96, and his neighbor unloadeth 
upon him Iron Mountain at 65 *Hj, and it straightway 
breaketh down to 52J4. He riseth early and sitteth 
up late that he may fill his barns and store-houses, 
and lo! his children’s lawyers divide the spoil among 
themselves and say, Ha, ha! He growleth and is sore 
distressed because it raineth, and he beateth upon 
his breast and sayeth, My crop is lost! because it 
raineth not. The late rains blight his wheat and 
the frost biteth his peaches. If it be so that the 
sun shineth, even among the nineties, he sayeth, 
Woe is me, for I perish, and if the northwest wind 




RANDOM SMILES 


45 


sigheth down in forty-two below he crieth, would 
that I were dead! If he wear sackcloth and blue 
jeans men say he is a tramp, and if he goeth forth 
shaven and clad in purple and fine linen all the people 
cry, shoot the dude! 

He carrieth insurance for twenty-five years, until 
he hath paid thrice over for all his goods, and then 
he letteth his policy lapse one day, and that same 
night fire destroyeth his store. He buildeth him a 
house in Jersey, and his first born is devoured by 
mosquitoes; he pitcheth his tent in New York, and 
tramps devour his substance. He moveth to Kansas, 
and a cyclone carrieth his house away over into 
Missouri, while a prairie fire and ten million acres 
of grasshoppers fight for his crop. He settleth him¬ 
self in Kentucky, and is shot the next day by a 
gentleman, a colonel and a statesman, because, sah, 
he resembles, sah, a man, sah, he did not like, sah. 
Verily, there is no rest for the sole of his feet, and if 
he had it all to do over again he would not be born 
at all, for “the day of death is better than the day 
of one’s birth.” 




Juvenile Jests 

t 

Teacher—Who can make a sentence with gruesome 
in it? 

I key—The man stopped shaving and grew some 
whiskers. 


Visitor—How’s your brother, Tommy? 

Tommy—He’s in bed; he hurt himself. 

Visitor—How did he do it? 

Tommy—We were playing who could lean fur¬ 
thest out of a window, and he won. 


A lad sat on the floor playing. Suddenly he set 
up a howl. 

Henry, what is the matter? asked the mother. 
The cat scratched me. 

Why, the cat is not here. When did she scratch 
you? 

Yesterday. 

Well, why are you crying now? 

’Cause I forgot it then. 


This bit of brightness is said to have cropped 
out in a conversation between tw r o misses not old 
enough to go to school. 

What makes a horse act naughty when he sees 
an auto? 

It is this way—Horses is used to seein’ other 
horses pull wagons, and they don’t know what to 
think of ’em goin’ along without a horse. Guess if 
you saw a pair of pants walkin’ down the street 
without a man in ’em you’d be scared, too. 





JUVENILE JESTS 


47 


Little Elsie—Brother Johnny can’t come to 
school; he has diphtheria. 

Teacher—Indeed! Where did he get it? 

Little Elsie—In the neck. 


The passionate rhythms of “The Merry Widow” 
waltz floated through the office, and the boss looked 
up from his desk impatiently. 

Frederic, he said, I wish you wouldn’t whistle at 
your work. 

I ain’t workin’, sir, the office boy replied calmly. 
I’m only just whistlin’. 


After a teacher had recited “The Landing of the 
Pilgrims,” she requested each pupil to try to draw 
from his or her imagination, a picture of Plymouth 
Rock. 

Most of them went to work at once, but one little 
fellow hesitated, and at length raised his hand. 

Well, Willie, what is it? asked the teacher. 

Please, ma’am, do you want us to draw a hen or 
a rooster? 


Here is Jimmie’s essay on pants: Pants are made 
for men and not for women. Women are made for 
men and not for pants. When a man pants for a 
woman and a woman pants for a man they are a 
pair of pants. Such pants don’t last. Pants are 
like molasses—they are thinner in hot weather and 
thicker in cold. Men are often mistaken in pants; 
such mistakes are breaches of promise. There has 
been much discussion whether pants is singular or 
plural. Seems to me when men wear pants it is 
plural, and when they don’t wear pants it is singu¬ 
lar. Men go on a tear in their pants and it is all 
right, but when the pants go on a tear it is all wrong. 
If you want to make pants last, make the coat first. 









48 


JUVENILE JESTS 


Pop, I got in trouble at school today and it’s all 
your fault. 

How’s that my son? 

Well, you remember when I asked you how much 
a million dollars was? 

Yes, I remember. 

Well, teacher asked me today, and “helluva lot” 
isn’t the right answer. 


The pupils of a certain school were asked to write 
original compositions on “kings.” The prize was 
carried off by the youth who handed in the following: 

The most powerful king on earth, is Wor-king; 
the laziest, Shir-king; one of the worst kings, Smo¬ 
king; the wittiest, Jo-king; the quietest, Thin-king; 
the thirstiest, Drin-king; the slyest, Win-king; the 
noisiest, Tal-king. 


At a public school the children were training for 
the annual flag day celebration. One boy, in order 
to show good reason why he should take a prominent 
part in the ceremonies, said that he had a real gun; 
another had a pistol; a small girl had a flag,and so on. 

Finally, one tow-haired lad of six came up to the 
teacher, and stood waiting for her to see him. 

Well, what is it? she asked. 

I has a union suit, he said. 


Now in order to subtract, explained a teacher to 
the class in mathematics, things always have to be 
of the same denomination. For instance, we couldn’t 
take three apples from four years, nor six horses 
from nine dogs. 

A hand went up in the back of the room. 

Well, Johnny? smiled the unsuspecting teacher. 

Please, ma’am! shouted the boy, can’t you take 
four quarts of milk from three cows? 






JUVENILE JESTS 


49 


Little Elizabeth and her mother were having 
luncheon together, and the mother, who always tried 
to impress facts upon her young daughter, said— 

These little sardines, Elizabeth, are sometimes 
eaten by the larger fish. 

Elizabeth gazed at the sardines in wonder, and 
then asked— 

But, mother, how do the large fish get thecans open? 

A teacher had been telling her class of boys 
recently that worms had become so numerous that 
they destroyed the crops, and it was necessary to 
import the sparrow to exterminate them. The spar¬ 
rows multiplied very fast and were gradually driving 
away our native birds. 

Johnny was apparently very inattentive, and the 
teacher, thinking to catch him napping, said— 

Johnny, which is worse, to have worms or sparrows? 

Johnny hesitated a moment and then replied: 
Please, I never had the sparrows. 

George, George, mind; your hat will be blown off 
if you lean so far out of the window! exclaimed a 
fond father to his little son, who was traveling with 
him in a railway carriage. Quickly snatching the 
hat from the head of the refractory youngster, papa 
hid it behind his back. 

There, now, the hat has gone! he cried, pretend¬ 
ing to be angry. And George immediately set up a 
howl. After a time the father remarked— 

Come, be quiet; if I whistle your hat will come 
back again. 

Then he whistled and replaced the hat on the 
boy’s head. There, it’s back again, you see. After¬ 
ward, while papa was talking to mamma, a small, 
shrill voice was heard saying— 

Papa, papa, Pve thrown my hat out of the 
window! Whistle again, will you? 






Frenzied Finance 

The bank teller in a snippy way said: But I don’t 
know you, madam! 

The woman was red-headed, and she got red¬ 
headed in a minute. She said: Oh, yes, you do. 
I don’t need anyone to identify me. I’m the red¬ 
headed hen next door to you whose “imps of boys’’ 
are always running across your garden. When you 
started to town this morning your wife said: Now, 
Henry, if you want a dinner fit to eat this evening, 
you’ll have to leave me a little money. I can’t keep 
this house on Christian Science. 

Here is your money, interrupted the paying teller 
very faintly. 


In order that his wife might become better 
acquainted with business methods, Mr. Ferguson 
handed $100 to her, and instructed her to deposit it 
in bank in her own name and pay her bills thereafter 
with checks. 

Several weeks afterward she came to him in a 
high state of indignation. 

George, she said, the other day those people down 
at the bank wrote me a note and told me I had over¬ 
drawn my account—whatever that is—and that I 
would have to send them $4.75 to balance it. I sent 
it to them right away, but it didn’t satisfy them. 
They’re bothering me about it again. 

You sent the $4.75? 

Yes. Same day. 

Well, that’s—by the way, Laura, how did you 
send it? 

I sent them a check for it, of course. 



FRENZIED FINANCE 


51 


Some few days ago a Louisville banker was 
approached by an impecunious farmer for a loan. 
Now at times this banker is deaf for commercial pur¬ 
poses. The farmer was chronically wanting to bor¬ 
row, and his security was getting shaky. I’d like to 
borrow five thousand, pleaded the farmer. The 
banker cupped his hand to his ear and said: Speak 
a little louder and cut down the amount. 


Thousands of girls are sent out into the world 
with what is called finished educations, who cannot 
even give a proper receipt for money, to say nothing 
of drawing a promissory note, a draft or a bill, or 
understanding the significance and importance of 
business contracts. 

Such a woman presented a check for payment to 
the paying teller of her bank. He passed it back to 
her with the request that she be kind enough to in¬ 
dorse it. The lady wrote on the back of the check, 
I have done business with this bank for many years, 
and I believe it to be all right. Mrs. James B. Brown. 

Another society woman in New York presented a 
check for payment at the bank, and the teller told 
her that it was not signed, Oh, do they have to be 
signed? she replied. What an awful lot of red tape 
there is about a banking business. 

I know of a lady whose husband made a deposit 
for her in a bank and gave her a check book so that 
she could pay her bills without annoying him. One 
day she received a notice from the bank that her 
account was overdrawn. She went to the bank and 
told the teller that there must be some mistake about 
it, because she still had a lot of checks left in her book. 
She knew so little about business that she thought 
she could keep drawing any amount until the checks 
were all gone. 





52 


FRENZIED FINANCE 


Among the more recent stories of feminine bank¬ 
ing is one of a young lady who in a fit of abstraction 
signed a check, Your loving Susie. A still later anec¬ 
dote is this, from one of our exchanges: 

A fund was being raised in New York for the 
benefit of sufferers by a great disaster, and a certain 
rich but illiterate woman was approached upon the 
subject. 

Oh, I shouldn’t mind sending the money, she said, 
but I do hate to have my name in all the papers. 

But that could be easily arranged, said the gentle¬ 
man who had opened the subject. 

Why, yes, of course, remarked the woman, I 
could send an anonymous check. Why didn’t I think 
of that before? 


Four or five ladies bustled into a private office 
the other day. 

What can I do for you, ladies? asked the banker 
pleasantly. 

Why, began one of the visitors, we are taking up 
a subscription and we knew you wouldn’t like it if we 
didn’t give you an opportunity to subscribe. 

The banker bowed graciously and asked: And 
the object? Of course it is a worthy one, or you would 
not be interested in it. 

Yes, sir, replied the spokeswoman, we think it a 
very worthy object. It is to build a home for aged 
and indigent widows. 

Excellent! Excellent! I shall take pleasure in 
making you out a check. 

Oh, how lovely of you! exclaimed the spokes¬ 
woman when she received the bit of paper and read 
the amount—one hundred pounds. Oh, we didn’t 




FRENZIED FINANCE 


53 


expect to get that much from you. We are ever so 
much obliged. 

So good of him! and similar exclamations were 
heard as the check was passed around for the admira¬ 
tion of the party. 

But, said the lady who handled the check last, 
you haven’t signed it. 

That is because I do not wish my benefactions 
known to the world, said the banker modestly. I 
wish to give the check anonymously. And he bowed 
the ladies out with great dignity. 


In a banking office in New Orleans is an aged 
bookkeeper who began his connection with the busi¬ 
ness the day it was established. As the years went 
by, the proprietor, who had started with little, but 
was extremely close, amassed an enormous fortune. 
The bookkeeper piled up but a small amount of sav¬ 
ings. 

At last the twenty-fifth anniversary of the firm 
and of the bookkeeper’s services came along. He 
remembered it, but thought no one else would. To 
his surprise, the proprietor spoke of it at once. 

Williams, he said, do you know what day this is? 

Our twenty-fifth anniversary, sir. 

It is indeed, Williams. And now I have thought 
to commemorate the event, and I have put in this 
envelope for you a small gift to express my apprecia¬ 
tion of your faithful service. 

The bookkeeper, his hopes raised high, took the 
envelope from his employer and opened it. The 
token was a photograph of the employer. 

Well? demanded the donor, as the other hesitated. 
What do you want to say about it? 

It’s just like you! murmured the bookkeeper. 
It's just like you. 





Disciples of Hippocrates 

Aren’t you pretty young to be a practicing 
physician? asked the severe-iooking female person 
sternly. 

Well, you see, I only doctor children, said the 
young medico, nervously. 


Doctor, are you sure my husband has pneumonia? 
I have heard of doctors treating patients for pneu¬ 
monia who finally died of typhoid fever. 

Well, madam, I don’t make such blunders. 
If I treat a patient for pneumonia, he dies of pneu¬ 
monia. 


Patient—Doctor, it hurts me to breathe. In 
fact, the only trouble now seems to be with my 
breath. 

Physician—All right. I’ll give you something 
that will soon stop that. 


A young doctor in a country district was called 
one night by an old farmer to his first case. The pa¬ 
tient was the farmer’s son, who was lying on the bed 
in much pain. The young medico threw out his chest 
and said: This should cause you no alarm. It is 
nothing but a corrustified exegesis antispasmodically 
emanating from the physical refrigerator, pro¬ 
ducing a prolific source of irritability in the peri¬ 
cranial epidermis. 

The farmer looked at him and replied, just what 
I said, but his mother thought it was the stomachache. 





DISCIPLES OF HIPPOCRATES 


55 


Wife— Now dear, here’s the doctor to see you. 
Merchant Prince— Send him away and fetch 
the undertaker! You know I never deal with 
middlemen. 


A doctor came up to a patient in an insane asylum, 
slapped him on the back and said: Well, old man, 
you’re all right. You can run along and write 
your folks that you’ll be back home in two weeks 
as good as new. 

The patient went off gayly to write his letter. He 
had it finished and sealed, but when he was licking 
the stamp it slipped through his fingers to the floor 
lighted on the back of a cockroach that was passing 
and stuck. The patient hadn’t seen the cockroach. 
What he did see was his escaped postage stamp 
zigzagging aimlessly across the floor to the base¬ 
board, wavering up over the baseboard and following 
a crooked track up the wall and across the ceiling. 
In depressed silence he tore up the letter that he 
had just written and dropped the pieces on the floor. 

Two weeks! Hell! he said. I won’t be out of 
here in three years. 


He had just hung out his shingle. That morn¬ 
ing a stranger entered. The doctor asked to be 
excused as he hurried to the phone. 

Taking down the receiver, he said: Yes, this 
is Dr. Whoosit. Yes, will be ready for you at two-ten 
this afternoon. But please be prompt, for I am 
very busy. Two hundred dollars? Yes, that was 
the estimate I gave you. 

Hanging up the receiver, he turned to the stranger 
and rubbing his hands asked: Now, sir, what can 
I do for you? 

Nothing, replied the stranger quietly. I only 
came in to connect up the telephone. 










56 


DISCIPLES OF HIPPOCRATES 


The following item is taken from a county officer’s 
health report: The patient died of blood poison 
from a broken ankle contracted in an automobile 
accident, which was a very strange occurrence, 
since he was struck between the lamp post and the 
radiator. 


Herr Doctor, my wife and I are possessed! Can’t 
you cure us? What sort of a demon is it possesses 
you? Peasant: The fighting demon; it forces us 
to come to blows, and we are both sorry for it after¬ 
ward. Doctor (making three times the sign of the 
cross): Begone, foul demon of discord, begone! 
So that was only the preliminary cure, now I will 
write a prescription for you. When the fit comes 
on again, the one who is not yet begun to scold and 
fight is to take the medicine bottle and a spoon and 
go out of the room, while the other remains inside. 
After ten minutes the first one is to come in again, 
count twenty-seven drops into the spoon, and give 
them to the other; then the latter is to take the 
spoon and count twenty-seven drops and give them 
to the first one, after which you shake hands together. 
Not a word to be spoken the whole time. Three 
months later the peasant came again with his wife: 
Herr Doctor, we have come to make you a present 
of this ham for having cured us so thoroughly! This 
is a true story, and occurred in Holstein. 




Legal Luminaries 

Yours is certainly an unusual case, said the lawyer, 
and it will be necessary to consult a number of books. 
So? queried the client. 

Yes, answered the legal light, and we will begin 
with your pocketbook. 


He had finished his speech at a dinner party, and 
on seating himself a lawyer rose, shoved his hands 
deep into his trousers pockets, as was his habit, and 
laughingly inquired of those present: 

Doesn’t it strike this company as a little unusual 
that a professional humorist should be funny! 

When the laughter that greeted this sally had 
subsided, Mark Twain drawled out—Doesn’t it strike 
this company as a little unusual that a lawyer should 
have his hands in his own pockets? 


As a prisoner was brought before the judge for 
sentence the clerk happened to be absent. The 
judge asked the officer in charge of the prisoner what 
the offence was with which he was charged. 

Bigotry, your honor. He’s been married to three 
women. 

Why, officer, that’s not bigotry, said the judge, 
that’s trigonometry. 


There was an old man who was charged with 
illicit distilling and was brought up before the court. 
The Judge, who was a witty fellow, asked the prisoner 
what was his Christian name. The prisoner replied, 
Joshua, and the Judge answered, Are you the man that 
made the sun shine? and the prisoner replied, No, sir, 
your honor; I’m the one that made the moonshine. 





58 


LEGAL LUMINARIES 


A jury recently met to inquire into a case of 
suicide. After sitting through the evidence the 
twelve men retired, and, after deliberating, returned 
with the following verdict— 

The jury are all of one mind—temporarily insane! 


In a lawsuit in Pennsylvania not long ago the 
question was put to a miner on the witness stand. 

Were you ever hurt in the mines? 

Indade I was, responded the man, I was half 
kilt once. 

Now tell the court whether you were injured at 
any other time, continued the cross-examiner. 

Yes. I was half kilt in another accident shortly 
after that. 

Your Honor, smilingly interjected counsel for the 
other side, I object to this man’s testimony. 

Upon what ground? asked the judge. 

On the ground that, having been half killed twice, 
he is a dead man and therefore incompetent as a witness. 


In a suit recently tried in a Virginia town a young 
lawyer of limited experience was addressing the jury 
on a point of law, when good-naturedly he turned to 
opposing counsel, a man of much more experience 
than himself, and asked— 

That’s right, I believe, Colonel Hopkins? 

Whereupon Hopkins, with a smile of conscious 
superiority, replied— 

Sir, I have an office in Richmond wherein I shall 
be delighted to enlighten you on any point of law for 
a consideration. 

The youthful attorney, not in the least abashed, 
took from his pocket a half-dollar piece, which he 
offered Col. Hopkins with this remark— 

No time like the present. Take this, sir, tell us 
what you know and give me the change. 





LEGAL LUMINARIES 


59 


Secretary Elihu Root was talking about the 
humanity of judges. 

They are humane men, he said. I could tell you 
many moving stories of the pain that they have 
suffered in the infliction of severe sentences. It is 
not altogether pleasant to be a judge. 

That is why I can not credit a story that was 
told me the other day about, a judge in the West. 
A criminal on trial before this man had been found 
guilty. He was told to rise, and the judge said to him— 

Have you ever been sentenced to imprisonment 
before? 

No, your honor, said the criminal, and he burst 
into tears. 

Well, said the judge, don’t cry, you’re going to 
be now. 


This story of the election expenses of a Georgia 
lawyer who was defeated for county commissioner 
in the recent primary, reaches us by way of the 
Newark Ledger in a dispatch from Atlanta. His sworn 
statement runs— 

Lost 1,349 hours’ sleep thinking about the election. 
Lost two front teeth and a whole lot of hair in a 
personal encounter with an opponent. Donated one 
beef, four shoats, and five sheep to a county barbecue. 
Gave away two pairs of suspenders, four calico 
dresses, $5 cash, and thirteen baby rattles. Kissed 
126 babies. Kindled fourteen kitchen fires. Put up 
four stoves. Walked 4,076 miles. Shook hands with 
9,508 persons. Told 10,101 lies, and talked enough 
to make, in print, 1,000 volumes. Attended sixteen 
revival meetings, and was baptized four different 
times by immersion, and twice some other way. 
Contributed $50 to foreign missions, and made love 
to nine grass widows. Hugged forty-nine old maids. 
Got dog-bit thirty-nine times, and was defeated. 





60 


LEGAL LUMINARIES 


Sam Kalleton, a member of the Arkansas Legis¬ 
lature, was very fond of offering amendments to bills 
introduced. That was the limit of his legislative 
capacity. One morning, after a night’s hilarity, he 
entered the legislative hall just as the chaplain was 
asking divine aid. The old man took a chew of 
tobacco, and listened attentively until the chaplain 
closed his petition with an effective recitation of 
the Lord’s Prayer. Mr. Speaker, said the old man, 
arising, I move to strike out the words daily bread, 
and insert as much bread as may be found necessary 
for twenty days. We have already done enough for 
the flood sufferers. 


A prominent lawyer of New York says that many 
years ago he went West, but as he got no clients, and 
stood a good chance of starving, he decided to come 
East again. Without any money he boarded a train 
for Nashville, Tenn., intending to seek employment 
as reporter on one of the daily newspapers, says the 
New York Telegraph. When the conductor called for 
his ticket, he said— 

I am on the staff of the-of Nashville. I 

suppose you will pass me. 

The conductor looked at him sharply. 

The editor of that paper is in the smoker; come 
with me; if he identifies you, all right. 

He followed the conductor into the smoker; the 
situation was explained. Mr. Editor said— 

Oh, yes, I recognize him as one of the staff; it is 
all right. 

Before leaving the train the lawyer again sought 
the editor. 

Why did you say you recognized me? I’m not 
on your paper. 

I’m not the editor either. I’m traveling on his pass, 
and was scared to death lest you should give me away. 





LEGAL LUMINARIES 


61 


Judge Ben. B. Lindsey, the noted reformer of 
Denver, was lunching one day—it was very warm— 
when a politician paused beside his table. 

Judge, said the politician, I see you’re drinkin’ 
hot cawfee. That’s a heatin’ drink. 

Yes? said Judge Lindsey. 

Oh, yes. In this weather you want iced drinks, 
judge—sharp, iced drinks. Did you ever try gin and 
ginger ale? 

No, said the judge, smiling, but I’ve tried several 
fellows who have. 

Harry Bulger has recently added to his repertoire 
of stories a new character vignette which has been 
received with laughter in the South. As Mr. Bulger 
will be the guest of the Forty Club in Chicago during 
the “Woodland” engagement in that city, he is 
reserving this story for the post-prandial gossip. 

It relates largely to a lawyer and a Jewish client 
during a civil action. The attorney, watching the 
evidence and the countenance of the Judge, whose 
reputation for severity was well known in the district, 
whispered to his Hebrew client. 

It looks very bad. We are going to lose the case. 
Whereupon the client responded. 

Veil, I will send the Judge a box of cigars. 

Great heavens, no! That would end it. 

The following day much to the surprise of the 
plaintiff’s attorney, the decision was rendered for his 
client. Meeting his Jewish friend later the lawyer 
exclaimed— 

By Jove, I cannot understand this decision. Beats 
anything I ever heard. Tell me, did you send the 
Judge a box of cigars? 

Certainly. Of course I did. 

What? 

Yes, but I sent it with the card of the other fellow 
in it. 






Clerical Comicalities 

The blessed man that preached for us last Sunday, 
said Mr. Partington, served the Lord for thirty 
years—first as a circus rider, and then as a locust- 
preacher, and last as an exhauster. 


Patience—Is your preacher sensational? 

Patrice—I should say so! Why, he preached 
a sermon last Sunday and he took for his subject, 
It’s hard to keep a good man down. Well? Oh, it 
was all about Jonah and the whale. 


A series of revival services were being held 
recently in a Missouri city, and placards giving 
notice of the services were posted in conspicuous 
places. One day the following notice was posted: 

Hell, Its Location and Absolute Certainty. 
Thomas Jones, barytone soloist, will sing, Tell 
Mother I’ll Be There. 


There was once a clergyman’s son, who was 
educated for the ministry. He finished his theo¬ 
logical course at Oxford and returned home with 
the Oxford accent. On the following Sunday he 
was invited to fill his father’s pulpit for the morning 
service. The young preacher announced his text 
as follows: And they wequiahed of him Bawabbas. 
Now Bawabbas was a wobbah. At the evening 
service the old man resumed his pulpit and preached 
an eloquent sermon from the text, O Lord, have 
mercy upon us, for this my son is lunatic and we 
are sore distressed. 





CLERICAL COMICALITIES 


63 


When was the automobile first mentioned in 
the Bible? 

When Elijah crossed the river Jordan by a Ford 
and went up on high. 


Clergyman—examining a Sunday School, Now, 
can any of you tell me what are the sins of omission? 

Small Scholar—Yes, sir, they’re the sins you 
ought to have committed, and haven’t. 


Rev. Goodman—Mr. Slick, our Sunday-school 
superintendent is a tried and trusted employe of 
yours, is he not? 

Banker—He was trusted, and he’ll be tried if we’re 
only fortunate enough to catch him. 


It is reported that Pope Gregory XVI offered 
his snuff-box to a Cardinal, who declined it, saying: 
No, your holiness, I have not that vice. To which 
the Pope replied in thoroughly human way, if it 
had been a vice you would have had it. 


Mama, said little Elsie, do men ever go to heaven? 
Why of course, my dear. What makes you ask? 
Because I never see any pictures of angels with 
whiskers. 

Well, said the mother, thoughtfully, some men 
do go to heaven, but they get there by a close shave. 


The Bishop, addressing the little folks at the 
children’s service, became impressive. Only think, 
children, he said, in Africa, there are 10,000,000 
square miles of territory without a single Sunday 
school where little girls and boys can spend their 
Sunday afternoons. Now, what should we all try 
to save up our money for? 

The children (unanimously)—To go to Africa. 









64 


CLERICAL COMICALITIES 


At a sewing circle all the women were talking, 
and some of the subjects got hopelessly confused. For 
instance, the subject of crickets and church choirs. 
I never heard such a horrid noise as they made last 
Sunday, said one woman, referring to the choir. Nor 
I, said another, thinking she referred to the fall crickets. 
They say they make that noise with their hind legs. 


An evangelist who was conducting nightly ser¬ 
vices announced that on the following evening he 
would speak on the subject of Liars. He advised 
his hearers to read in advance the seventeenth 
chapter of Mark. 

The next night he arose and said: I am going 
to preach on Liars tonight, and I would like to know 
how many read the chapter I suggested. A hun¬ 
dred hands were upraised. 

Now, he said, you are the very persons I want to 
talk to—there isn’t any seventeenth chapter of 
Mark. 


A Baltimore man tells us of attending a church 
on one occasion when the minister delivered a sermon 
of but ten minutes’ duration—a most unusual thing 
for him. 

Upon the conclusion of his remarks the minister 
had added: I regret to inform you, brethren that my 
dog, who appears to be particularly fond of paper, 
this morning ate that portion of my sermon that I 
have not delivered. 

After the service, the clergyman was met at the 
door by a man who, as a rule, attended divine service 
in another parish. Shaking the good man by the 
hand, he said: 

Doctor, I should like to know whether that dog of 
yours has pups. If so, I want to get one to give to 
my minister. 






CLERICAL COMICALITIES 


65 


A clergyman preached a rather long sermon from 
the text, Thou art weighed in the balance and found 
wanting. After the congregation had listened about 
an hour, some began to get weary and went out; 
others soon followed, greatly to the annoyance of the 
minister. Another person started, whereupon the 
preacher stopped his sermon and said: That is right 
gentlemen; as fast as you are weighed, pass out! He 
continued his sermon some time after that, but no 
one disturbed him by leaving. 


Not a few preachers would be glad to be the 
victims of such a practical joke as was recently played 
upon the Rev. Mr. Hageman, of Oxford, Mich. At 
the annual meeting of the church of which he is pastor 
the question of hiring a preacher comes up for discus¬ 
sion. 

At the last meeting of this society, when the sub¬ 
ject was brought up, a good deacon arose and said: 
All those in favor of retaining Brother Hageman for 
another year—at the same salary—will please rise. 

Not a person rose, and the minister, who was 
present, felt as uncomfortable as possible, and heartily 
wished himself anywhere else. Then the good deacon 
who had put the question arose again and said, with 
a twinkle of the eye: 

I see not one favors that motion, so I will put it 
again in this way: All those in favor of keeping the 
Rev. Mr. Hageman—at an increased salary—will 
please rise. 

Everyone got upon his feet. Then it dawned up¬ 
on Mr. Hageman that he had been the victim of a 
joke, and a smile lighted his eye, and the color re¬ 
turned to his cheeks. Some of his best friends had 
planned the surprise, and the little scheme had worked 
to perfection. 





66 


CLERICAL COMICALITIES 


The deacons and other officers of a church had 
met to discuss the best method of getting rid of a 
pastor who had worn out his usefulness. After 
various methods had been suggested without any of 
them seeming feasible, one brother, who was a 
good deal of a wag, said: 

I tell you what to do. Let’s pay him all his salary 
in arrears and raise him to a thousand a year and he 
will drop dead. _ 

A certain Duluth clergyman was a rather prosy 
speaker, but occasionally he proved that he had 
ready wit. One evening he was addressing his 
congregation on the beauty of leading an upright 
life, when he suddenly paused and beckoned to the 
sexton. Brown, said he, in a clear, distinct tone of 
voice, open a couple of windows on each side of the 
church, please. Beg your pardon, sir! exclaimed 
the sexton, with a look of great surprise. Did I 
understand you to say, open the windows? It is 
a very bitter cold night, sir. Yes, I am well aware 
of that, Brown, was the cold, hard reply of the clergy¬ 
man, as he gazed around the church, but it is not 
healthy to sleep with the windows shut! We refrain 
from going any deeper into personalties. 


The late Bishop Beckwith, of Georgia, was fond 
of his gun, and spent much of his time hunting, says 
Representative Adamson. One day the Bishop was 
out with his dog and gun, and met a member of 
his parish, whom he reproved for his inattention to 
his religious duties. You should attend church 
and read your Bible, said Bishop. I do read my 
Bible, Bishop, was the answer, and I don’t find any 
mention of the Apostles going a-shooting. No, 
replied the Bishop, the shooting was very bad in 
Palestine, so they went fishing instead. 





CLERICAL COMICALITIES 


67 


A preacher who went to a Kentucky parish where 
the parishioners bred horses was asked to invite the 
prayers of the congregation for Lucy Grey. He did 
so. They prayed three Sundays for Lucy Grey. On 
the fourth he was told he need not do it any more. 

Why, said the preacher, is she dead? 

No, answered the man, she won the Derby. 


The Rev. Mr. Spicer had for three days enjoyed 
the telephone, which had been his last gift from an 
admiring parishioner. He had been using it imme¬ 
diately before going to church. 

When the time came for him to announce the 
hymn he rose and with his usual impressive manner 
read the words. Then in a crisp, firm tone he said, 
Let us all unite in hymn six double o; sing three. 


That Henry Ward Beecher was spared much em¬ 
barrassment by his quickness at repartee is illustrated 
by the following story: 

One evening as he was in the midst of an impas¬ 
sioned speech some one attempted to interrupt him 
by suddenly crowing like a rooster. It was done to 
perfection; a number of people laughed in spite of 
themselves, and the speaker’s friends felt that in a 
moment the whole effect of the meeting, and of Mr. 
Beecher’s thrilling appeals might be lost. The orator, 
however, was equal to the occasion. He stopped, 
listened till the crowing ceased, and then, with a look 
of surprise, pulled out his watch. 

Morning already, he said; my watch is only at 10. 
But there can be no mistake about it. The instincts 
of the lower animals are infallible. 

There was a roar of laughter. The lower animal 
in the gallery collapsed, and Mr. Beecher was able to 
resume as if nothing had occurred. 





68 


CLERICAL COMICALITIES 


The maid had been using surreptitiously the bath¬ 
tub of her employer, an elderly bishop. He was a 
bachelor, very fastidious about his toilet, and desired 
the exclusive use of his tub. 

He reprimanded the maid with much indignation: 

What distresses me most, Mary, is that you have 
done this behind my back. 


A certain minister in a certain flock took per¬ 
manent leave of his congregation in the following 
manner: 

Brothers and Sisters: I come to say good-bye. 
I don’t think God loves this church, because none 
of you ever die. I don’t think you love each other, 
because I never marry any of you. I don’t think 
you love me, because you have not paid my salary. 
Your donations are moldy fruit and wormy apples, 
and by their fruits ye shall know them. Brothers, 
I am going to a better place. I have been called 
to be chaplain of a penitentiary. Where I go ye 
cannot come, but I go to prepare a place for you, and 
may the Lord have mercy on your souls. Good-bye. 


Sister Henderson, said Deacon Hypers, you should 
avoid even appearance of evil. 

Why Deacon, what do you mean? asked Sister 
Henderson. 

I observe that on your sideboard you have several 
cut-glass decanters, and that each of them is half 
filled with what appears to be ardent spirits. 

Well, now, Deacon, it isn’t anything of the kind. 
The bottles look so pretty on the sideboard that I 
just filled them half way with some floor stain and 
furniture polish, just for appearances. 

That’s why I am cautioning you, sister, replied 
the Deacon. Feeling a trifle weak and faint, I helped 
myself to a dose from the big bottle in the middle. 





CLERICAL COMICALITIES 


69 


An archdeacon engaged as new footman a well- 
recommended youth who served as stable boy. The 
first duty which the youth was called upon to per¬ 
form was to accompany the archdeacon on a series 
of formal calls. 

Bring the cards, Thomas, and leave one at each 
house, ordered his master. After two hours of 
visiting from house to house the archdeacon’s list 
was exhausted. This is the last house, Thomas, he 
said; leave two cards here. 

Beggin’ yor pardon, sir, was the deferential reply, 
I can’t; I’ve only the ace of spades left. 


Senator Gore, of Oklahoma, is given credit for 
this story, told on his recent visit to a Methodist con¬ 
vention at St. Joseph. It is related by the Rev. 
Mr. Williams, pastor of the Baptist Church of Pleas¬ 
ant Hill, who happened to hear it. 

According to Senator Gore, there was an accom¬ 
plished hen with a brood of chickens—five roosters 
and five pullets. The chicks matured and went their 
various ways, while the mother hen busied herself 
with a new brood. In course of time Methodist 
ministers came into the vicinity of Chickenville to 
hold a conference, and, as might be suspected, the 
five young roosters, fat, yellow-legged and extremely 
tender, were feasted upon by various and sundry 
preachers. The young pullets, left behind, were met 
by the mother hen a few days later. My children, 
she asked, where are your brothers? 

They have entered the ministry. 

Bracing herself from the shock of disclosure, a 
look of resignation spread over Biddy’s countenance 
as she replied : 

Well, my dears, perhaps it is all for the best. 
They would not have made very good lay members, 
anyway. 




70 


CLERICAL COMICALITIES 


A Philadelphia clergyman, visiting an old school¬ 
mate in Montana, was called upon to speak during 
revival services in a large camp of Swedish miners. 

Looking straight at a powerful looking man 
who sat in front of him, the minister asked: 

My friend, don’t you want to work for the Lord? 

The Swede thought a few seconds and replied 
slowly: 

No, I tank no, de Norden Pacific fallers is good 
enough for me. 


A short time ago a somewhat laughable incident 
took place in a northern church. The minister, 
after proclaiming the banns of matrimony between 
a young couple, concluded by saying, If there be 
any objections, they can now be stated. A fash¬ 
ionable youth, an old admirer of the intended bride, 
noticing the eyes of a portion of the congregation 
fixed upon him, rose up and exclaimed, I have 
no objection for my own part, to the astonishment 
of all about him, and resumed his seat, as if he had 
done a mere formal piece of business. 


Each Sunday the parson rode three miles to 
church. On this particular Sunday it was raining 
very hard. He rode the distance on horseback 
and, when he reached the church, was soaking wet. 

Several of the good old sisters who were there 
early placed a chair before the fire for him and hung 
his wet coat up to dry. 

I am so afraid I won’t be dry enough to preach, 
he said. 

Oh, said one of the sisters, when you get in the 
pulpit and start preaching, you will be dry enough. 





CLERICAL COMICALITIES 


71 


Whenever a Sunday school teacher comes to 
Louisville invariably a good story is in order. Last 
night one of them was at a local hotel, and he brought 
along his story. Morrison R. Kendrick is his name, 
and Chicago is his town. The story is told by Mr. 
Kendrick as follows: 

Sunday School Superindent—Who led the chil¬ 
dren of Israel into Canaan? Will one of the smaller 
boys answer? 

No reply. 

Superintendent (sternly)—Can no one tell? 
You little fellow on that seat next to the aisle, who 
led the children of Israel into Canaan? 

Little Boy (badly frightened)—It wasn’t me. 
I—I just moved here last week from Missouri. 

An amusing incident occurred at the close of Sam 
Jones’ sermon at Pulaski. Stepping down from the 
pulpit, folding his hands across his breast, and look¬ 
ing solemnly over the audience, the great revivalist 
said— 

I want all the women in this crowd who have not 
spoken a harsh word or harbored an unkind thought 
toward their husbands for a month past to stand up. 

One old woman, apparently on the shady side of 
sixty, stood up. 

Come forward and give me your hand, said the 
preacher. 

The woman did so, whereupon Jones said— 

Now turn around and let this audience see the 
best-looking woman in the country. 

After taking her seat, the revivalist addressed the 
men— 

Now I want all the men in this crowd who have 
not spoken a harsh word or harbored an unkind 






72 


CLERICAL COMICALITIES 


thought toward their wives for a month past to 
stand up. 

Twenty-seven great big strapping fellows hopped 
out of the audience with all the alacrity of champagne 
corks. 

Come forward and give me your hands, my dear 
boys. 

Jones gave each one a vigorous shake, after which 
he ranged all of them side by side in front of the 
pulpit and facing the audience. He looked them 
over carefully and solemnly, and then, turning around 
to the audience, he said— 

I want you all to take a good look at the twenty- 
seven biggest liars in the State of Tennessee. 



Khaki Klad 


Captain (examining uniforms which are expected 
to be marked with the owner’s name)—What does 
this mean, my man? Your name seems to be oblit¬ 
erated. 

Private (in the rear rank)—No, sir, it’s O’Brien. 


A young officer at the front wrote home to his 
father— 

Dear Father—Kindly send me fifty pounds at 
once. Lost another leg in a stiff engagement, and 
am in hospital without means. 

The answer was as follows— 

My Dear Son—As this is the fourth leg you have 
lost (according to your letters), you ought to be 
accustomed to it by this time. Try and hobble 
along on any others you may have left. 


She had been hoping against hope that Bill would 
get leave of absence so they could spend their wedding 
anniversary together. But, alas! he was unsuccessful 
in his application. Knowing how disappointed his 
wife would be he sent an order to a local store for a 
treadle sewing machine, knowing that would be her 
choice of a present. 

The crate arrived before Bill’s letter of explana¬ 
tion, and on examining it the good lady gave a loud * 
scream, and seizing a hatchet, proceeded to open it. 

Why, what’s the matter, Mrs. Smith? cried a 
neighbor, who happened to be present. 

Pale and faint, Mrs. Smith pointed to an inscrip¬ 
tion on the crate. It read— 

Bill inside! 




74 


KHAKI KLAD 


Rear Admiral Osterhaus, at a luncheon in New 
York, said of a naval disappointment. 

It was as disappointing as absent-minded Ibsen’s 
Christmas dinner. 

Ibsen, you know, ran absent-mindedly one Christ¬ 
mas night into the restaurant of a railway station 
and asked— 

Look here, waiter, did you say I had twenty 
minutes to wait or that it was twenty minutes to 
eight? 

The Tipperary waiter stopped carving a turkey 
long enough to reply— 

I said nayther. I said ye had twenty minutes to 
ate, but that was nineteen minutes ago. There’s yer 
train whistlin’ fur ye now. 


Isaac had been drafted and sent to France. 
Jacob, his partner, distracted, had begged Isaac to 
cable when he got over. Three weeks elapse. No 
cable. 

Jacob cables Isaac—Isaac! Woe is us! Our fac¬ 
tory burned down ten days ago. Why don’t you 
cable or write? 

Three weeks more. No reply. 

Jacob cables again—Isaac! Woe is us! Our 

storage warehouse burned down last week. Total 
loss. Settled for $75,000. I am nearly crazy from 
grief. Why don’t you cable? Are you dead? 

Three weeks more. No reply. 

Jacob cables again—Isaac! Woe is us! Our 

main office burned last week. Settled insurance for 
$90,000. I will die if you don’t cable. Haven’t 

heard from you at all. Where are you? Are you 

alive? 

Answer comes next day—Jacob, stop that non¬ 
sense, spending all our money for cables! I’m all 
right. You just keep the home fires burning! 




KHAKI KLAD 


75 


The French soldier found as much cause to com¬ 
plain about English as she is spoken as our lads did 
with the lingo over there. One of the tri-color 
veterans chirped up one day by letting out—Ze 
English spoken, pas bon. Here ze sentence—What 
color is ze blackberry when it is green? and I find out 
he is red! 


General W. W. Blackmar was talking to a group 
of soldiers in Boston when a fakir came up and held 
out for inspection a rusty old sword. 

Look at it, gents, he said, examine it close. It 
is the sword what Lee surrendered to Grant. You 
can have it for $5. 

Go along with you, said one of the soldiers sternly. 
Go along with you. You can’t fool us. 

The fakir hurried away, and General Blackmar 
said— 

That was, indeed, an impudent fraud, wasn’t it? 
It reminds me of the frauds that were practiced in 
the old relic shows that used to be a feature of 
country fairs. 

At a country fair in my youth there was a show 
devoted almost to biblical relics. I wish you could 
have seen the faded cloth, the rusty nails, and the 
brass jewels that did duty severally for a piece of 
Solomon’s robe, an earring of the Queen of Sheba, 
Absalom’s hairpin, David’s sling, and so on. In the 
place of honor hung a sword, and the showman 
said— 

This is the sword that Balaam was going to kill 
his ass with. 

But, I interposed, I thought that Balaam had no 
sword. I thought he only wished for one. 

You’re right, said the showman, this is the sword 
he wished for. 





76 


KHAKI KLAD 


What is a man-of-war? said a teacher to his class. 
A cruiser, was the prompt reply. 

What makes it go? 

Its screw, sir. 

Who goes with it? 

Its crew, sir. 


Is de major got his pension yit? 

Oh, yes! 

Used him up purty bad, didn’t dey? 

Wuss you ever see! Los’ one arm whilst he waz 
a-tryin’ ter surrender en broke two legs a runnin’! 


When I was a little child, the sergeant sweetly 
addressed his men at the end of an hour’s exhaustive 
drill, I had a set of wooden soldiers. There was a 
poor little boy in the neighborhood and after I had 
been to Sunday school one day and listened to a 
stirring talk on the beauties of charity I was softened 
enough to give them to him. Then I wanted them 
back and cried, but mother said, Don’t cry, Bertie, 
some day you will get your wooden soldiers back, 
and believe me, you lob-sided, mutton-headed, goofus- 
brained set of certified rolling pins, that day has come. 


A firm in Liverpool, delighted that one of its 
employes was called upon to join the reserves, vol¬ 
unteered to pay half his wages to his wife in his 
absence. At the end of the month the woman 
appeared, and the moiety was given her. What? 
she said; four pound? Yes, replied the senior part¬ 
ner, that is exactly half, sorry you are not satisfied. 
It isn’t that I’m not satisfied. Why, for years he has 
told me he only got 16 shillings altogether, and— 
and—if the Boers don’t kill him, I will. 






KHAKI KLAD 


77 


A recruiting sergeant stationed in the south of 
Ireland met Pat and asked him to join the army. 
The latter refused, whereupon the sergeant asked his 
reason for refusing. 

Aren’t the King and the Kaiser cousins? asked 
Pat. 

Yes, said the recruiting sergeant. 

Well, said Pat, begorra I once interfered in a 
family squabble, and I’m not going to do so again. 


Two British soldiers went into a restaurant at 
Saloniki and asked for Turkey with Greece. The 
waiter said— 

I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I can’t Servia, where¬ 
upon the Tommies cried—Fetch the Bosphorus! 

When that gentleman arrived and heard the 
complaint, the manager said— 

Well, gentlemen, I don’t want to Russia, but you 
can not Rumania. 

And so the poor Tommies had to go away Hungary. 


The Baron Speck von Sternberg, the newly ap¬ 
pointed charge d’affaires from Berlin, was at a dinner 
where, in a purely humorous spirit the courage of the 
various nations of the world was being impugned. 
The German’s courage was pretty severely attacked 
by an Englishman. Baron von Sternberg took re¬ 
venge on him with this brief story— 

An Englishman and a German were to fight a 
duel. They were locked in a pitch dark room 
together with cocked pistols. All was still, and 
neither could tell where the other was. Finally the 
German, not wishing to have murder on his soul, 
tiptoed to the chimney and fired up it. There was 
a shriek, and the Englishman, badly wounded, came 
tumbling down. 





78 


KHAKI KLAD 


Two officers once appeared before Gustavus Adol¬ 
phus of Sweden to ask his permission to fight a duel, 
as one had grievously insulted the other. Certainly, 
my friends, said the king. I will be present myself 
at the encounter. On the day appointed Gustavus 
Adolphus appeared on the scene, accompanied by a 
sinister looking person, who proved to be the public 
executioner. Pointing to the two combatants, the 
king said— 

You see those two men? Immediately after their 
duel you will behead the survivor. 

The two officers shook hands on the spot. 


Corporal James Tanner lost both his legs at the 
second battle of Bull Run. Later, when in a hospital, 
he and other wounded soldiers were visited by chari¬ 
tably inclined women. 

One day an elderly female carrying a neat basket 
sat down beside Tanner and talked religion to him 
while he thought of the delicacies in the basket. At 
length she lifted the lid and took therefrom a tract 
on the evils of dancing, which she handed to the 
patient. Tanner looked it over and then said earn¬ 
estly— 

I give you my word of honor, madam, that I’ll 
never dance again as long as I live. The elderly 
lady departed with great satisfaction, fully believing 
she had made a convert. 




Emeralds 


Hospital Physician—Which ward do you wish to 
be taken to? A pay ward or a— 

Maloney—Iny of thim, Doc, thot’s safely Dimo- 
cratic. 


He had reached heaven in good time. Hello, St. 
Peter, said he. ’Tis a foine job you have. 

Right, sir. ’Tis a great place here. We count a 
million years as a minute and a million dollars as a cent. 

Is that so, said he, wonderingly. Well, it’s money 
I need. Will you lend me a cent, St. Peter? 

Sure, replied St. Peter, in a minute. 


Brannigan, Flannigan, Milligan, Gilligan, 
Duffy, McGuffy, Mullarky, Mahone, 
Rafferty, Lafferty, Connelly, Donnelly, 
Dooley, O’Hooley, Muldowny, Malone; 
Maddigan, Caddigan, Hallahan, Callahan, 
Fagan, O’Hagan, O’Houlihan, Flynn, 
Shanagan, Lanagan, Fogarty, Hogarty, 
Kelly, O’Skelly, McGinnis, McGinn. 


Pat came to the wake. He walked up to the 
bier and looking at the remains of his buddie, Mike, 
he burst out laughing. He was prompt-hustled out 
of the room by many strong hands and when he got 
his breath he explained: Well, you see, the last time 
I talked with Mike he argied with me that there 
wasn’t no heaven and there wasn’t no hell, and I 
couldn’t kape from laffin’ when I see him lyin’ there 
all dressed up and no where to go. 






80 


EMERALDS 


Two Irishmen were on a ship coming over to 
America. One night Mike awoke Pat and said, Pat, 
get up quick, the ship is sinking. Pat said, what do 
we care? It’s not ours. 


The little Irishman was being examined for admis¬ 
sion to the army. He seemed all right in every way 
except one. The doctor said, you’re a little stiff. 
Quickly the Irish blood mounted as the applicant 
replied, You’re a big stiff! 


R. Hinton Perry, the sculptor, is responsible for 
the following story of the scrublady who cares for 
his studio. 

How many children have you Mrs. O’Flarity? 
he asked of her one morning. 

It’s siven I have, sir, she replied. Four be the 
third wife of my second husband, three be the second 
wife of me furst. 


Two young men met an Irishman. Said one: 
Well, Pat, what’s the news? 

Divil a bit, yer honors; ’tis very dull in these parts. 
Have yez any news? 

Yes, Pat; some very important news. 

Is that so, yer honors? Phat is it? 

We heard awhile ago for a fact that the devil was 
dead. 

Is that so? Och, worra, worra! What a pity, 
said he, taking out some money and giving to each a 
quarter. 

Oh, Pat, take back your money; we don’t charge 
you anything. 

Och, I know yez don’t; but ’twas a custom in the 
old country to give the orphans something when their 
father died. 






EMERALDS 


81 


An Irishman who was signing articles on board a 
ship began to write his name with his right hand, 
then, changing the pen to his left hand, finished it. 

So you can write with either hand, Pat? asked 
the officer. 

Yis, sor, replied Pat. Whin I was a boy me father 
(rist his soul) always said to me Pat, learn to cut yer 
finger nails wid your left hand, for some day ye might 
lose your right. 


A good old Irish pastor was thanking his congre¬ 
gation for the many Easter offerings, and his tremu¬ 
lous voice told how great was his pleasure. 

I want to thank the congregation, he said, for the 
many beautiful gifts from my people this glorious 
Easter Sunday. The plate donations were far in 
excess of my expectations, the candles were many 
and freely contributed, and the flowers were simply 
beautiful; but I want to say right here and now that 
the thing that touched my heart the most was whin 
little Mar-r-y Killy walked oop the aisle an’ laid an 
egg on the altar. 


Two Irishmen, long enemies, met one day. Said 
one: What’s the sinse of two intilligint min goin’ 
along year after year like a couple of wildcats spittin’ 
at each other? Here we live in the same tinimint, 
and ’tis a burnin’ shame that we do be actin’ like a 
couple of boobies. Come along wid yer and shake 
hands, and we’ll make up and be friends. Which 
they did, and went to an adjacent public house to 
cement their friendship with a glass of grog. Both 
stood at the bar in silence. One looked at the other 
and said: 

What are you thinkin’ about? 

Oi’m thinkin’ the same thing that you are. 

Oh, so ye’re startin’ agin, are ye? 






82 


EMERALDS 


The frequent and unsuccessful candidacy of 
certain men in this town for public office reminded 
George (Scotty) Dore of a story of his friend Hogan. 

Hogan was raffling a clock, said Mr. Dore. He 
was fairly successful in disposing of tickets in the 
shop where he worked, but he ran up against trouble 
when he canvassed his neighbors. 

Dropping in at a neighbor’s house, he tried to 
sell a ticket on the clock. 

It’s a fine timepiece, and it’ll luk foine on yer 
what-not er mantel, says Hogan, cajolingly. 

Gwan, the old clock doesn’t run! replied the 
neighbor. 

Well, drawled Hogan, changing front com¬ 
pletely, well perhaps yez won’t win it, and then 
ye’ll have the laugh on the fellow who does. 


Street cleaning commissioner Paul Iglehart, of 
Baltimore, returned recently from a gunning trip 
in Anne Arundel county and brought with him a 
supply of new stories told in the historic old South 
River Club. 

The one that particularly took Mr. Inglehart’s 
fancy was that of the Irish servant girl who one 
day asked her mistress what was the meaning of 
the word “kismet”. After thinking a little while the 
mistress said: 

Why, Bridget, it is anothei name for fate. 

A day or so afterward the mistress discovered 
Bridget hobbling down the stairs evidently in great 
pain and walking very lame. 

Why, what on earth is the matter with you? 
she asked. 

Oh, sure, ma’am, was the reply, I’ve got bunions 
on my kismet. 




EMERALDS 


83 


How is this? the detective inquired, with a jerk of 
his thumb toward the interior of the car. 

How’s what? inquired the Irishman. 

Nine passengers got on and you only rung up 
eight fares. 

Is that so, responded the conductor, with a look 
of innocent surprise. He cautiously counted the 
fares on the large dial. The spotter was waiting. 
Begorra, yer right. Wan of thim has got to git off. 


Thomas Patrick Gallagher, typical Irish traffic 
copper, was stationed on Madison street in Chicago 
at the point intersected by the river. 

One bustling Saturday afternoon, Gallagher held 
up his hand to halt traffic for the draw bridge. In 
front of him was a new handsome limousine motor car. 

While waiting for the bridge to close, a runabout 
flivver crashed into the rear end of the handsome car. 

Gallagher was on the job promptly and hustled 
over to the driver of the flivver. 

Phwat in hal does yez mane by smashing into 
this handsome car? Haven’t you got any eyes? 
he bellowed at the meek and humble driver, Are 
you crazy? I’ve a good mind to take you down 
to the headquarters, you blithering idiot. What’s 
your name? contined Gallagher, as he extracted 
a pencil and notebook from his pocket, what is 
the number of your car? 

The answer back in typical Gaelic, me name 
is Clancy. 

Clancy, replied Gallagher. Clancy, what part 
of Ireland are you from, what county— 

I am from County Mayo. 

County Mayo, continued the traffic officer, 
County Mayo, say Clancy, stay here just a minute 
till I go head to that big car and see why in the devil 
he backed into you. 





84 


EMERALDS 


The following anecdote is illustrative of eviction 
days in Ireland. Pat had served part of his time 
as a bricklayer in the old country. On arrival in 
America, he was watching some bricklayers at 
work when the foreman observed him: 

Can they do it as quick as that in Ireland, Pat? 

They can indeed, and twice as quick, answered Pat. 

Do you know, said the foreman, that we start 
a house here in the morning and it’s finished and 
a tenant in it before evening. 

That’s all you can do, is it? Well, said Pat, 
in Ireland we start a house in the morning and 
the landlord is evicting the tenant for back rent 
before evening. - 

Strange as it may seem, there is a public man in 
this city who is blessed or cursed with a tender con¬ 
science that worries him in small matters as well as 
in great. Among the things that he cannot justify 
to himself is the bidding a servant to say he is not at 
home when, in reality, he is inside his house. At 
the same time he is not able to recieve the many 
visitors who call upon him, and his only recourse was 
to give instructions that polite excuses should be 
given to a maid, an Irish girl, gifted with the readi¬ 
ness and good-will of her nation. 

Then I’m to be saying, sir, that you’re not at 
home? the maid inquired. 

No, Mary, no! was the reply; that would not be 
true. If anyone should ask for me, you must just 
put him off—give him some evasive answer, you know. 

I’ll do it, sir, never fear, was the maid’s reply. 
Mary was as good as her word. 

That afternoon a person of importance made his 
appearance, and was duly sent away. The faithful 
maid reported the circumstance to her employer. 

What did you do, Mary? inquired the latter with 
some trepidation. 





EMERALDS 


85 


Oh, I just put him off, sir, as you told me. I 
gave him an evasive answer. 

Yes, but what did you say to him? 

Oh, sure, he axed me if the boss was at home, and 
I said to him, was his grandmother a monkey? 


There were some deficiencies in the early educa¬ 
tion of Mrs. Donahoe, but she never mentioned them 
or admitted their existence. 

Will you sign your name here? said the young 
lawyer whom Mrs. Donahoe had asked to draw up 
a deed transferring a parcel of land to her daughter. 

You sign it yoursilf an I’ll make me mark, said 
the old woman, quickly. Since me eyes gave out 
I’m not able to write a wurrd, young man. 

How do you spell it? he asked, pen poised above 
the proper space. 

Spell it what iver way you plaze, said Mrs. 
Donahoe, recklessly. Since I lost me teeth there’s 
not a wurrd in the wurrld I can spell. 


A story is going the rounds in the court house 
of an Irishman who recently went before Judge 
Stephens to be naturalized. 

Have you read the Declaration of Independence? 
the Court asked. 

I hov not, said Pat. 

Have you read the Constitution of the United 
States? 

I hov not, your honer. 

Judge Stephens looked sternly at the applicant 
and asked: 

Well, what have you read? 

Patrick hesitated but the fraction of a second 
before replying: 

I hov red hairs on me neck, yer honor. 






Shadowgraphs 

I notice she bowed to you. Is she an old ac¬ 
quaintance? 

Y-yes; we’re slightly acquainted. In fact, she’s 
a sort of distant relation. She was the first wife of 
my second wife’s first husband. 


Do you want the court to understand, he said, 
that you refuse to renew your dog license? 

Yessah, but— 

We want no buts. You must renew the license 
or be fined. You know that it expired January 1, 
don’t you? 

Yessah; so did de dog, sah. 


That’s a nice-looking dog, remarked the kindly 
old gentleman, who takes an interest in everything. 

Yes, suh. He looks all right, replied the colored 
man who was leading him with a piece of rope. 

He looks like a pointer. 

Yes, suh. Dat’s what he look like. But dat ain’ 
what he is. He’s a disappointer. 


A colored parson, calling upon one of his flock, 
found the object of his visit out in the back yard 
working among his hen-coops. He noticed with sur¬ 
prise that there were no chickens. 

Why, Brudder Brown, he asked, whar’re all yo’ 
chickens? 

Huh, grunted Brother Brown, without looking 
up, some fool nigger lef’ de do’ open and dey all went 
home. 





SHADOWGRAPHS 


87 


Rev. Mr. Heavyweight (who has just read Peter’s 
denial of Christ)—What are you so thoughtful about, 
Uncle ’Rastus? 

Uncle ’Rastus—I was thinking’, massa parsin, dat 
if de Apostle Peter had only been a cullud gemman, 
dat rooster wouldn’t have crowed more’n once. 


I want to be procrastinated at de nex’ corner, 
said Mr. Erastus Pinkly. 

You want to be what? demanded the conductor. 

Don’t lose your temper. I had to look in de 
dictionary myself befo’ I found out dat procrastinate 
means put off. 


A southern planter was asking one of his colored 
servants about her wedding. Yes, suh, she said, 
it was jes the finest weddin’ you ever see—six brides¬ 
maids, flowers everywhere, hundreds ev guests, 
music, an’ er heap er praying. 

Indeed, commented her master. And I suppose 
Sambo looked as handsome as any of them? 

An embarrassed pause. Well no—not exactly, 
suh. Would you believe it, dat fool nigger neber 
showed up. 


Aunt Mary Wells is one of the few befo-de-wah 
darkies left in a little Kentucky town. Recently 
she was discussing wdth her employer the merry- 
go-round that was running up on the corner. 

Nawsuh, Mr. Malcolm, she said, nawsuh, I 
don’ ride on none o’ dem things. Why, Mr. Malcolm, 
I’ve seen some o’ these here fool niggers git on that 
thing and ride as much as a dollar’s worth, and git 
off at the very same place they gits on at; an’ I sez 
to em, Now you spent yo’ money, nigger, whah 
yo' been? 






88 


SHADOWGRAPHS 


Mandy was a good-looking young colored girl 
and had many admirers. Her mistress often lectured 
her on behaving with propriety. One evening the 
mistress, going into the kitchen, was surprised to 
find a strange darky with his arm around Mandy’s 
waist. 

Why, Mandy, said the mistress indignantly, 
tell that man to take his arm from around your 
waist. 

Tell him yo’self, said Mandy haughtily. He’s 
a puffect stranger to me. 


A negro was discovered carrying a large armful 
of books, which brought forth the inquiry— 

Going to school? 

Yes, sah, boss. 

Do you study all those books? 

No, sah; dey’s mu brudder’s. I’se ignorant kinder 
nigger side him, boss. Yer jest oughter see dat 
nigger figgerin’. He done gone ciphered clean through 
addition, partition, subtraction, distraction, abomi¬ 
nation, creation, justification, amputation and adop¬ 
tion. 


Uncle Ephraim had put on a clean collar and his 
best coat, says the Chicago Tribune, and was walk¬ 
ing majestically up and down the street. 

Aren’t you working to-day, uncle? asked one of 
his acquaintances. 

No, suh. I’s celebratin’ my golden weddin’, suh. 

You were married fifty years ago to-day? 

Yes, suh. 

Well, why isn’t your wife helping you celebrate? 

My present wife, suh, replied Uncle Ephraim, 
with dignity, ain’t got nothin’ to do with it. She’s 
de fourth, suh. 





SHADOWGRAPHS 


89 


Sambo—You know, Rastus, dat every time ah 
kiss mah wife she closes her eyes an’ holler. 

Rastus—Ah say she do! 

Sambo—What’s dat, nigger? 

Rastus—Ah say, do she? 


Lord Babbington was instructing the new colored 
servant in his duties, adding—Now, Zeke, when I 
ring for you, you must answer me by saying—My 
lord, what will you have? 

A few hours afterward, having occasion to summon 
the servant, his lordship was astonished with the 
following— 

My Gawd, whut does you want now? 


A negro had made several ineffectual efforts to 
propose to the object of his affections, but on each 
occasion his courage failed him at the last moment. 
After thinking the matter over he finally decided to 
telephone, which he did. Is that you, Samantha? 
he inquired upon being given the proper number. 
Yes, it’s me, returned the lady. Will you marry me, 
Samantha, and marry me quick? Yes, I will, was 
the reply, who’s speaking? 


They installed a new furnace, or some sort of a 
heating apparatus, at the Brazilian Embassy in Wash¬ 
ington this winter. 

The Charge went down to look it over. He 
picked up the shaker. It was large and heavy. 

Here, James, he said to the negro butler, you call 
up that furnace man and tell him this shaker is too 
heavy. Why, none but a modern Ajax could use it. 

Yassir, said the butler, and went to the telephone. 
Heah, yo’ furnace man, he said, this yere shaker yo’ 
done put in the Brazilian Embassy is too heavy. 
Why, nobody short of a modern jackass could use it. 







90 


SHADOWGRAPHS 


Two darkies engaged in a horse trade. After the 
sale was made one darky had the other darky’s 
horse, for which he parted with $30.00. A few days 
later the buyer of the horse came across the other 
darky and complained bitterly of being robbed. 
Why, Rastus, that horse ain’t no good at all. He 
can’t see. He’s blind. 

What makes you think he’s blind, Sam? 

Why, the other day I turned him out in the field 
and he run into the fence, then he stumbled over a 
great big rock and then he run plumb into a tree. 

Aw, go long, nigger, that horse ain’t blind. He 
just don’t give a damn. 


One morning, while visiting in Richmond, a New 
York lady overheard the following conversation 
between the hostess and the cook— 

Please, Mis’ Gawdon, may I git off nex’ Sunday 
to go to the fun’ral of a friend of mine? 

Next Sunday? Why, Eliza, this is only Monday! 
They wouldn’t put a funeral off for a week. 

Yas’m, respectfully; but dey has to, ’cause he 
ain’t dead yit. 

Not dead! I am positively ashamed of you. 
How can you be so heartless as to arrange to attend 
the funeral of a man who is still living? Why, he 
may not die at all. 

Yas’m, but he will; dey ain’t no hope. 

It is impossible to say that, Eliza; the best doc¬ 
tors are often mistaken. But even if they do know 
a case to be hopeless, they cannot predict the exact 
time of a man’s death with such a certainty that the 
funeral can be arranged so long beforehand. 

Yas’m, with calm assurance; but he will be buried 
nex’ Sunday, for all dat, ’cause he’s gwin’ to be hung 
on Friday. 




SHADOWGRAPHS 


91 


When General John Corson Smith was lieutenant 
governor of Illinois, one of the colored janitors of the 
state house at Springfield came into his office one 
morning and related the following incident, which he 
said occurred the previous evening in the negro lodge 
of which he was a member— 

The ballot box had been passed and the worship¬ 
ful master asked—How is the ballot in the south, 
Brother Junior Warden? Clar in the south, worship¬ 
ful. How is the ballot in the west, Brother Senior 
Warden? Clar in the west, worshipful. The W. M. 
then inspected the box and said—And clar in the 
east. I therefore declar Mr. Josephus Johnson duly 
elected to take the degrees in this lodge. Up jumped 
a big coon, as black as the ace of spades, and cried, 
That’s a ‘fernal lie,’ worshipful master. I put in 
four black balls myself. 


A negro boy walked into a drug store and asked 
permission to use the telephone. Then the following 
conversation took place— 

Is that you, Mistah Jones? 

Yes, apparently was the reply. 

Well, Mistah Jones, I saw your ad in de paper 
the other day and yo’ wanted a cullud boy. Did 
yo’ get one? 

Yes, seemed to be the answer again. 

Well, Mistah Jones, ishegivin’ perfect satisfaction? 

The reply appeared still to be affirmative. 

Well, Mistah Jones, providen dis cullud boy don’t 
give perfect satisfaction, you call me at 54. 

The boy turned and started out, and the druggist, 
who had overheard, remarked—You didn’t do any 
good, did you? 

Yes, sah, came the reply. I’s dat cullud boy 
what’s workin’ down there. I’se jest checkin’ up 
to see how I stand. 




92 


SHADOWGRAPHS 


Edward M. Flesh, of the United States Food 
Commission, was talking in St. Louis about snobbish¬ 
ness. 

Snobbishness penetrates everywhere, he said. It 
even penetrates our churches. 

I know of an old darky who got religion last 
month and decided to join the church. He selected, 
of course, the richest and handsomest church in 
town, the church with the finest music and the best 
preaching. Then he called on the pastor and stated 
his design. 

But the pastor hemmed and hawed. He felt that 
his fashionable flock wouldn’t welcome such an addi¬ 
tion as the old darky. He didn’t want to hurt the 
old fellow’s feelings, however, and finally he said— 

Go home, Uncle Rooster. Go home and pray 
over it. This is an important matter, and it should 
be made a subject of prayer. 

Old Uncle Rooster went home, and in a few days 
he was back again. 

Well? said the divine. Well, what’s the verdict 
now? 

Ah prayed an’ Ah prayed, said Uncle Rooster, an’ 
de good Lawd He say to me, Rooster, mah son, Ah 
wouldn’t bothah mah haid about dat mattah no mo.’ 
Ah’ve been a-tryin’ to git into dat chu’ch mahself 
fo’ de last twenty-nine yeahs an’ Ah ain’t had no 
luck, nuther. 


At the end of the first six months of his pastorate 
in Kentucky the Rev. Silas Johns had learned the 
ways of his flock so thoroughly that he knew exactly 
how to deal with them. One Sunday the collection 
was deplorably small. The next week he made a 
short and telling speech at the close of his sermon. 
I don’t want any man to gib more dan his share, 
bredren, he said, gently, bending toward the congre- 




SHADOWGRAPHS 


93 


gation, but we must all gib according as we are 
favored and according to what we rightly hab. I 
say rightly hab, bredren, he went on, after a short 
pause, because we don’t want any tainted money in 
de box. Squire Blinks told me dat he’d missed some 
chickens dis week. Now, if any one ob my pore 
benighted bredren has fallen by de way in connection 
wid does chickens, let him stay his hand from de 
box when it comes to him. Brudder Mose, will you 
pass de box while I watch de signs and see if dere’s 
one in de congregation dat needs me to wrestle in 
prayer for him? 


An excellent story is told by Kate Douglas Wig- 
gin, the popular writer. A negro servant, wishing 
to get married, asked his master to buy him a license 
in the neighboring town. The master, being in haste, 
did not ask the name of the happy woman, but as he 
drove along he reflected on the many tender atten¬ 
tions that he had seen John lavish upon Euphemia 
Wilson, the cook, and, concluding that there could 
be no mistake, had the license made out in her name. 

There’s your license to marry Euphemia, he said 
to the servant that night. You’re as good as married 
already, and you owe me only two dollars. 

The darky’s face fell. 

But, Mas’ Tom, Euphemia Wilson ain’t de lady 
I’se gwine to marry. Dat wan’t nothin’ mo’n a 
little flirtation. Georgiana Thompson, the la’ndress, 
is the one I’se gwine to marry. 

Oh, well, John, said the master, amused and 
irritated at the same time, there’s no great harm 
done. I’ll get you another license to-morrow, but 
it will cost you two dollars more, of course. 

The next morning the darky came out to the 
carriage as it was starting for town, and leaning 





94 


SHADOWGRAPHS 


confidentially over the wheel, said—Mas’ Tom, you 
needn’t git me no udder license; I’ll use the one I’se 
got. I’se been t’inkin’ it over in de night, an’ to 
tell you de troof, Mas’ Tom, de conclusion o’ my 
jedgment is dat dar ain’t two dollars’ worth o’ 
diff’rence between dem two ladies. 


Until recently there was a partnership existing 
between two darky blacksmiths in an Alabama town. 
The dissolution of this association was made known 
by a notice nailed upon the door of the smithy, which 
notice ran as follows— 

The kopardnershipp heretofor resisting between 
me and Mose Jenkins is heerby resolved. All perr- 
sons owing the firm will settel with me, and all 
perrsons that the firm owes to will settel with Mose. 




Alliterations 


I wonder if you know that Betty Botter baked 
a bit of batter, but her batter was so bitter that to 
make her bitter batter better Betty Botter bought a 
bit of better butter, and with this bit of better butter 
Betty Botter made her bitter batter better. 


In reply to the question, How much wood would 
a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck would chuck 
wood? I would say, if a woodchuck would chuck 
all the wood that a woodchuck could chuck if a 
woodchuck could chuck wood, a woodchuck would 
chuck as much wood as a woodchuck could chuck if 
a woodchuck could chuck wood. 


When the tramp begged for somthun to do for a 
bite o’ bread, the lady of the house said—Did you 
happen to notice that pile of wood in the yard? 

Yes’m, I seen it. 

You should mind your grammar. You mean you 
saw it. 

No’m. You saw me see it, but you ain’t seen me 
saw it. 


An old farmer of Arkansas, whose sons had all 
grown up and left him, hired a young man by the 
name of Esau Buck to help him on his farm. On 
the evening of the first day they hauled up a small 
load of poles for wood, and unloaded them. The 
next morning the old man said to the hired man— 
Esau, I’m going to town today, and while I am 
gone you may saw wood and keep the old ram out 
of the garden. 





96 


ALLITERATIONS 


When the old man had gone, Esau went out to 
saw the wood, but when he saw the saw he wouldn't 
saw. When Esau saw the saw he couldn’t saw with 
that saw. Esau looked around for another saw, but 
that was the only saw he saw, so he didn’t saw. 
When the old man came home he said to Esau— 

Esau, did you saw the wood? 

Esau said—I saw the wood, but I wouldn’t saw it. 

The old man went out to see the saw, and when 
he §aw the saw he saw that Esau couldn’t saw with 
that saw. When Esau saw that the old man saw 
that he couldn’t saw with the saw, Esau picked up 
the ax and chopped up the wood and made a seesaw. 

The next day the old man went to town and bought 
a new buck-saw for Esau Buck, and when he came 
home he hung the buck-saw for Esau Buck on the 
saw-buck by the seesaw. 

Just at that time Esau Buck saw the old buck in 
the garden eating cabbage, and when driving him 
from the garden to the barn-yard Esau Buck saw 
the buck-saw on the saw-buck by the seesaw. 

When the old buck saw Esau Buck looking at the 
new buck-saw on the saw-buck by the seesaw, he 
made a dive for Esau, hit the seesaw, knocked the 
seesaw against Esau Buck, who fell on the buck-saw 
on the saw-buck by the seesaw. 

When the old man saw the old buck dive at Esau 
Buck, and miss Esau and hit the seesaw and knock 
the seesaw against Esau, and Esau Buck fall on the 
buck-saw on the saw-buck by the seesaw, he picked 
up an ax to kill the old buck. But the buck saw 
him coming and dodged the blow and countered on 
the old man’s stomach, knocked the old man over 
the seesaw onto Esau Buck, who was getting the 
seesaw, crippled Esau Buck, broke the buck-saw and 
the saw-buck and the seesaw. 



ALLITERATIONS 


97 


A Yale student is reported to be responsible for 
the following alliteration— 

Bill had a billboard. Bill also had a board bill. 
The board bill bored Bill so that Bill sold the bill 
board to pay the board bill. So after Bill sold the 
bill board to pay his board bill the board bill no 
longer bored Bill. 

It is said that with little practice on either exercise 
a salesman will so loosen his tongue and grease his 
vocal organs that he can sell Russian bonds to a 
Japanese. 



Poet's Corner 


IN KENTUCKY. 

The moonlight falls the softest, 

In Kentucky; 

The summer days come oftest, 

In Kentucky; 

Friendship is the strongest, 

Love’s light glows the longest, 

Yet, wrong is always wrongest, 

In Kentucky. 

Life’s burdens bear the lightest, 

In Kentucky; 

The home fires burn the brightest, 
In Kentucky; 

While players are the keenest, 

Cards come out the meanest, 

The pocket empties cleanest, 

In Kentucky. 

The sun shines ever brightest, 

In Kentucky; 

The breezes whisper lightest, 

In Kentucky; 

Plain girls are the fewest, 

Their little hearts are truest, 

Maiden’s eyes the bluest, 

In Kentucky. 



POET’S CORNER 


99 


Orators are the grandest, 

In Kentucky; 

Officials are the blandest, 

In Kentucky; 

Boys are all the fliest, 

Danger ever nighest, 

Taxes are the highest, 

In Kentucky. 

The bluegrass waves the bluest, 

In Kentucky; 

Yet, bluebloods are the fewest (?), 

In Kentucky; 

Moonshine is the clearest, 

By no means the dearest, 

And, yet, it acts the queerest, 

In Kentucky. 

The dove-notes are the saddest, 

In Kentucky; 

The streams dance on the gladdest, 

In Kentucky; 

Hip pockets are the thickest, 

Pistol hands the slickest, 

The cylinder turns quickest, 

In Kentucky. 

The song birds are the sweetest, 

In Kentucky; 

The thoroughbreds are fleetest, 

In Kentucky; 

Mountains tower proudest, 

Thunder peals the loudest, 

The landscape is the grandest, 

And politics—the damnedest, 

In Kentucky. 

—By James H. Mulligan. 


i > > 



100 


POET’S CORNER 


A TIME IN THE KITCHEN. 

The fork said the corkscrew was crooked; 

The remark made the flatiron sad; 

The steel knife at once lost its temper, 

And called the tea-holder a cad. 

The teaspoon stood on its metal; 

The kettle exhibited bile; 

The stove grew hot at the discussion, 

But the ice remained cool all the while. 

The way that the cabbage and lettuce 

Kept their heads was something sublime; 

The greens dared the soup to mix with them, 
And the latter, while it hadn’t much thyme, 

Got so mad it boiled over—the fire 
Felt put out and started to cry; 

The oven then roasted the turkey 

And the cook gave the grease spot the lye. 

The plate said the clock in the corner 
Transacted its business on tick. 

And the plate, which for years had been battered, 
The clock said was full of old nick. 

The salt said the cream should be whipped, 

The cinnamon laughed—in a rage 

The cream said the salt was too fresh, 

And its friend wasn’t thought to be sage. 

You’d not think a thing that’s so holey 

As the sieve would have mixed in the fuss, 

But it did, for it said that the butter 
Was a slippery sort of a cuss; 

No one knows how the row would have ended, 
Had not the cook, Maggie O’Dowd, 

(Her work being done) closed the kitchen, 

And thusly shut up the whole crowd. 



POET’S CORNER 


101 


JUST NONSENSE. 

It was midnight on the ocean 
Not a street car was in sight 
The sun was shining brightly 
And it rained all day that night. 

It was a summer day in winter 
The rain was snowing fast 
A barefoot girl with shoes on 
Stood sitting on the grass. 

It was evening and the rising sun 
Was setting in the west 
The little fishes in the trees 
Were cuddled in their nests. 

The rain was pouring down 
The moon was shining bright 
And everything that you could see 
Was hidden from your sight. 

While the organ peeled potatoes 
Lard was rendered by the choir 
While the sexton rang the dish rag 
Some one set the church on fire. 

“Holy Smokes” the preacher shouted 
In the rain he lost his hair 
Now his head resembles heaven 
For there is no parting there. 


This is the story of Johnny McGuire, 

Who ran through the town with his trousers on fire; 
He went to the doctor’s and fainted with fright 
When the doctor told him his end was in sight. 




102 


POET’S CORNER 


8 2 MUCH. 

I often sit and medit8 
Upon the scurvy trick of f8 
That keeps me still a celib8. 
I want a lOder maid sed8 
To love and be my m8. 

My 40-2de is not so gr8 
I cannot w8. 


ANTHEM FOR A HAS-BEEN. 

My Auto ’tis of Thee 
Short cut to poverty 
Of Thee I chant. 

I blew a pile of dough 
On you three years ago 
Now you refuse to go 
Or won’t or can’t. 

Through town and country side 
I drove thee full of pride 
No charm you lacked. 

I loved your gaudy hue 
Your tires so round and new 
Now I feel mighty blue 
The way you act. 

To thee old rattle box 
Came many bumps and knocks 
For thee I grieve. 

Badly thy top is torn 
Frayed are thy seats and worn 
The croup affects thy horn 
I do believe. 




POET’S CORNER 


103 


Thy perfume swells the breeze 
While good folks choke and sneeze 
As we pass by. 

I paid for thee a price 
Would buy a mansion twice 
Now every one yells “Ice” 

I wonder why. 

Thy motor has the grip 
Thy spark plug has the pip 
And woe is thine. 

I too have suffered chills 
Fatigue and kindred ills 
Trying to pay the bills 
Since thou wert mine. 

Gone is my bank roll now 
No more ’twould choke a cow 
As once before. 

Yet if I had the yen 
So help me John “Amen” 

I’d buy a car again 
And speed some more. 


The lightning bug is brilliant, 
But he hasn’t any mind; 

It wanders through creation 
With its headlight on behind. 


Tobacco is a dirty weed— 

I like it. 

It satisfies no moral need— 

I like it. 

It makes you fat, it makes you lean, 

It takes the hair right off your bean, 

It’s the worst darn stuff I’ve ever seen— 

I like it. 





104 


POET’S CORNER 


Little Willie in the best of pink sashes, 
Fell in the fire and got burned to ashes. 
Bye and bye the room grew chilly, 

But nobody wanted to poke up Willie. 


Here lies the body of Mary Ann Lowder. 
She burst while drinking a seidlitz powder, 
Called from this world, to her heavenly rest, 
She should have waited till it effervesced. 


IF I SHOULD DIE TONIGHT. 

If I should die to-night 

And you should come to my cold corpse and kneel 
Clasping my bier to show the grief you feel, 

I say, if I should die to-night 
And you should come to me and there and then 
Just even hint about paying me that ten 
I might arise the while 
But I’d drop dead again. 

Twice, thought I, the coin to send, 

My one indebtedness to end. 

But since I’ve learned a shock so great 
A prompt remittance would create, 

I do not like to pay you quite 

For fear that you might die of fright— 

So wait. 





Limericks 


Now what is a Limerick pray? 
I beg of you poet to say. 
Conversation like this 
Is a Limerick, miss, 

But it doesn’t occur every day. 


Said a husband, You think I’m a St. 
I will fool you a bit, for I at. 

Now please take a look, 

Watch me wink at the cook! 

* * * * 

No, the black ’round his eye isn’t pt. 


A young thing named Katherine Parr 
Was crazy to be a screen star, 

But she snubbed her director 
When he tried to correct her, 

So Kate didn’t get very far. 


There once was an old man of Lyme 
Who married three wives at a time; 
When asked, Why a third? 

He replied, One’s absurd! 

And bigamy sir, is a crime! 


There once was a person of Benin 
Who wore clothes not fit to be seen in; 
When told that he shouldn’t 
He replied, Gumscrumrudent! 

A word of inscrutable meanin’! 






106 


LIMERICKS 


There was a gay damsel of Lynn, 
Whose waist was so charmingly thin, 
The dressmaker needed 
A microscope—she did— 

To fit this slim person of Lynn. 


There was a young lady named Anna, 

Who sang in the choir soprano. 

The tenor said, There! 

As she mounted the stair, 

I’ve both seen and heard your Hose, Anna! 


There was an old man in a tree 
Who was horribly bored by a bee, 
When they said, Does it buzz? 
He replied, Yes it does, 

It’s a regular brute of a bee! 


Unless I’ve a new gown, said she, 

I really can’t go to the tea. 

I’ve nothing to wear, 

My back is quite bare. 

You’re right in the style, then, said he. 


A proud young rooster named Gawk, 
Was taking his flock for a walk; 

An auto whizzed by 
But Gawk wouldn’t fly, 

And so naught was left but the squawk. 


Belinda was building the fire, 

She knew the results might be dire, 
But to shorten her toil 
She poured on some oil— 

And speedily winged her way higher. 








LIMERICKS 


107 


There was a young dude from the city 
Who tho’t he espied a nice kitty, 

Her back he did pat, 

Saying, good Kitty Cat— 

They buried his clothes—what a pity! 


There was a young man at St. Kitts 
Who was very much toubled with fits. 
The eclipse of the moon 
Threw him into a swoon, 

When he tumbled and broke into bits. 


There was a young lady, quite rich, 
Who heard funny noises, at which 
She took off her hat 
And found that her rat 
Had fallen asleep at the switch. 


There once was a girl of New York 
Whose body was lighter than cork 
She had to be fed 
For six weeks upon lead, 
Before she went out for a walk. 


There once was a man with a beard 
Who said, It is just as I feared! 

Two owls and a hen, 

Four larks and a wren 
Have all built their nests in my beard! 


There once was an amorous Mr. 

Who on meeting a girl always Kr. 

But one night at the gate 
He learned when too late 
He’d been kissing the coachman’s black Sr. 








108 


LIMERICKS 


They had cut off a Chinaman’s queue, 

And were painting his head a bright blueue; 

So the Chinaman said 
As they daubed at his head; 

When I sueue yueue, yueue’ll rueue what yueue dueue. 


There was a Princess of Bengal 
Whose mouth was exceedingly small; 
She said, It would be 
More easy for me 
To do without eating at all! 


A right-handed writer named Wright, 
In writing “write” always wrote “rite.” 
He meant to write “write,” 

But he couldn’t write right— 

Who started this darn thing, anyway? 


There was a young lady of Boston 
Whose manner had such a deep frost on. 

She invariably froze 
Every one of her beaux 

When her high plane of thought they got lost on. 


When you turn down your glass it’s a sign 
That you’re not going to take any wign, 
So turn down your plate 
When they serve things you hate 
And you’ll be asked out often to dign. 


There was an old person of Ware 
Who rode on the back of a bear. 
When they said, Does it trot? 
He said, Certainly not, 

It’s a Moppsikon Floppsikon bear. 








LIMERICKS 


109 


Nan’s father, who lived in Nantucket, 
Kept all of his cash in a bucket. 

But one day Miss Nan 
Eloped with a man, 

And as for the cash, why Nan tuck it! 


There was an old man who said, Hush, 
I perceive a young bird in this bush! 
When they said, Is it small? 

He replied, Not at all, 

It is four times as big as the bush! 


Every fighter in khaki or blue 
Has a job he simply must do— 

He must stand by the flag, 

He must fight the red rag, 

The Legion will see the job through! 


There was a cowpuncher in Butte 
Who immediately started to shutte, 
When a girl who was brave 
Said, Your pants need a shave, 
Otherwise you look awfully cutte! 


A cowboy with nothing to dioux 
Just for practice tried roping poor Lioux, 
It was excellent sport 
But Siouxn after in court 
He was siouxed for lassiouxing a Sioux! 


A broken down tenor named Squires 
Wrote thus to a half hundred choirs; 
Have you place I could fill? 
They replied “No,” but still 
He inquires in choirs in quires. 









110 


LIMERICKS 


There was a young lady named Jane 
Who said to herself, I’m too plain. 
I’m tired of duty, 

Now I’ll seek beauty, 

And beat Father Time at his game. 


There was a dear lady of Eden 
Who on apples was quite fond of feedin’. 
She gave one to Adam 
Who said, Thank you madam, 

And then both skedaddled from Eden. 


Said the stuttering baritone Gantz 
When asked by the chorister Rantz, 
If it was his desire 
To sing in the choir, 

I’d j-j-j-jump at the chants! 


A lady as proud as old Lucifer 
Is tired of her husband’s abucifer. 
She says she will see 
If she ever gets free 
Love doesn’t again make a gucifer. 


When Adam in bliss 
Asked Eve for a kiss, 

She puckered her lips with a coo, 
Gave look so ecstatic, 

And answered emphatic, 

I don’t care A-dam if I do. 


She frowned on him and called him Mr. 
Because in fun he’d merely Kr. 

And then for spite 
The foll’wing nite 
This naughty Mr. Kr. Sr. 








LIMERICKS 


111 


There was a young lady named Stella, 
Whose beau was a bow-legged fella. 
When he asked her to sit 
In his lap, why she lit 
On his soft corn, then how he did bella. 


Professor M’Dome of Saint Clair 
In five hours tracked a bear to his lair. 
Mr. Bear was at home 
And Professor M’Dome 
Spent five minutes returning from there. 


I am so poor 
I can’t insure, 

He said, then died—(damnation!) 
His widow sighed, 

Became a bride 
And thus escaped starvation. 


For beauty I am not a star, 

There are others more handsome by far. 
By my face I don’t mind it, 

For I am behind it, 

It’s the people in front that I jar. 


Dickery Dickery Doc, 

With patients lined up a block 
With fits and conniptions 
They wait for prescriptions 
Liquor me, liquor me, Doc. 


Any girl can be gay 
In a classy coupe, 

In a taxi they all can be jolly 
But the girl worth while 
Is the girl who can smile 
When you’re bringing her home on the trolley. 











112 


LIMERICKS 



A sporty old chink named Wun Won 
Sat up playing fan tan for mon, 

At two he’d lost ten 
But he stuck to it—then 
Wun Won won one-one at 1:01. 


There once was a maiden of Siam 
Who said to her lover, young Kiam, 

If you kiss me, of course 
You will have to use force, 

But I’ll wager you’re stronger than I am. 


































































\ 















LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



0 016 225 573 3 












































